Criminal Affairs
by blue c 84
Summary: The CIA's Domestic Protection Division is having a problem- someone is killing off their operatives. They call on the BAU to help. Mostly team fic. Criminal Minds x Covert Affairs
1. Chapter 1

Note: This will eventually be a CM/ Covert Affairs crossover. Summer Wind McKenzie is an OC from the previous fics- She's Reid's friend. That's all

0000 ooooo 000

"So is this what our genius Dr. Reid does in his spare time?" Derek Morgan teased.

Spencer Reid handed two tickets to the smartly suited man taking them. "You know, Morgan, you really didn't have to come if you weren't interested," he said in the same manner.

"Kid, you said little Summer McKenzie had given you tickets to a museum exhibit," Morgan countered, adjusting his sports coat as he passed the velvet rope. "It's sad to let that go to waste, dont you think?"

"Yes, but I know this isn't your quote unquote scene," he replied. He knew this was a far cry from Derek Morgan's usual spot. For one, they were inside a special advance viewing of the Pepper Wreck exhibition. Morgan didn't even know what the Pepper Wreck was until he explained it on the way to the museum.

Secondly, he knew that the only reason Morgan was coming with him was the same reason he was going to the event- It meant not going home and dwelling on the fact that they were at an impasse. Somewhere out there, Doyle was still running loose and they were running out of ways to find him.

After four days of spending every free moment in the round table room, Hotch had finally had enough. '"Go home,' he had instructed, "Get some rest. We'll pick it up in the morning."

Going to the museum was simply a distraction.

Not that he minded at all.

What Spencer did mind however was when Morgan gamely shot back, "A change of pace keeps things interesting," just as a pretty blonde in a purple sleeveless shift dress passed infront of them to look at photo presentations nearby.

Spencer cringed, tearing his eyes away from the scale reconstruction of the actual ship floating at the far end of the gallery. "Morgan, most of these people are academics and anthropologists and financiers and-"

"Relax, youngster. Rossi would tell you that this is your chance for personal growth," his friend smiled. Before he could even ask what he was talking about, Reid felt Morgan lightly pushing him towards the blonde looking at pictures. "I'll be your wingman, tonight."

"What?"

But it was too late. Spencer had found that he had stumbled right beside the blonde just as she moved to the same space. "I'm so... so sorry," he somehow managed to stutter, placing his hands to his pockets. "I'm ah... I'm a bit clumsy and the carpet..."

"It's alright," the lady gave him a wide friendly smile. Spencer could feel that his cheeks were feeling warmer. "No harm no foul, right?"

"Yeah um.. But still, I apologise-" he tried to say .

"Oh! Thank you for finding my friend Dr. Spencer Reid," Morgan suddenly made his appearance beside him. "He's suppose to show me around."

"A doctor? You must be one of the professors the museum invited," the lady said.

"Actually, my doctorates are unrelated to this field," he corrected after taking a deep breath. "I um... A friend gave me tickets to this event."

"Annie Walker. I work for the Smithsonian," she introduced herself.

Spencer eyed her hand for a brief second before he felt Morgan elbow him ever so slightly. He shook her hand uncertainly. "Spencer Reid," he followed suit. "This is my, um... friend, Derek Morgan. We visit the Smithsonian. It's a national treasure."

"No, that's not true," Morgan countered. "He visits the Smithsonian. I kind of just tag along."

"Well, you must have some friend to get tickets to this event. I hear this is by invite only," Annie said motioned to the crowd.

"Well, our Dr. Reid here is connected," Morgan replied for him.

Spencer would have choked on his drink if he had been drinking. "It isn't nearly as creepy as he implies..." he weakly started to explain.

"How so?" she genuinely inquired.

"He knows someone from the team," Morgan replied thumbing towards the pictures.

Eyebrows went up. "You know someone from this team?" she asked in disbelief looking at the faded photographs. "Which one?"

Spencer turned and quickly skimmed the pictures for a familiar face. It took several quiet seconds but he finally found a decent photo of a damp young girl in scuba gear grinning at the camera while giving the photographer a thumbs up. "There!" he pointed out, squinting at the photo to catch the number. "I think that's a nine?"

"Summer Wind McKenzie, 1997." Annie read the tiny inscription at the bottom of the collage.

"1997?" Morgan repeated surprised. "Kid, how old was McKenzie?"

"I think she just turned thirteen here. I remember when she left California that year, she mentioned they might take a trip to Portugal," he replied.

"Is that even legal for a thirteen year old to be wreck diving?" Annie asked.

"Her parents were with her. They're... ah... pretty adventurous people," he answered

"Adventurous, huh?" Annie smiled. "I guess you're pretty adventurous too if you have a friend like that."

For the second time that night, Spencer felt his cheeks warm, not exactly sure how to reply. Talking to women was Morgan's territory, not his. And currently his "wingman" was simply nudging him to come up with something smooth when all he could think of was a blank. Nobody would ever know the relief he felt when he heard his name called out from across the hall. "Dr. Reid!"

Spencer turned spotting a portly middle aged man waving at him and instructing him to come over to a small circle of four. He gave the man a small wave back. "I hope you would excuse me. I'm just going to say hello to Dr. Kelly," he said as quickly as he retreated, leaving Annie in the more capable hands of Morgan.

Of course, Morgan shot him a look of disbelief as he left.

"It's good to see you here, m'boy," Dr. Kelly greeted warmly placing an arm around his shoulders as he lead him into the group. "But where's Summer?"

"Yes, where is the little rascal?" another middle aged lady asked fondly. "I wanted to discuss our little trip to Guatemala tomorrow night."

"She has a hospital shift," he explained, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "She gave me her tickets that you gave her. I hope it's okay..."

"Don't worry about it, Spencer. At least they're not wasted," Dr. Kelly said, placing his hands into his pockets, grinning. "I felt you should be introduced to this little gang of ours that managed to show up."

Reid couldn't contain his smile when he realised that he was meeting three other people whose work he had read when he was taking up Sociology. It was like meeting Rossi for the first time- thrice! Dr. Linda Suarez didn't even look at him like an alien when he more or less quoted a part of her book on the different African pyramids, word for word. Instead, she looked amused, promising further discussion over coffee hopefully before she leaves for Guatemala with his friend.

Somehow, they ended up talking about the controversy on the Belitung Shipwreck and how the Smithsonian exhibit next year might be cancelled. A spirited debate about politics, artefacts and governments ensued. The genius almost forgot about Morgan, Annie, and the case altogether.

Almost.

Because somewhere between Dr. Lang and Dr. Trucco arguing about contracts, a hush settled inside the gallery only to be interrupted by a man shouting, "Annie! Annie! Someone call 911."

Reid turned around in horror trying to find the source of panic. "Morgan!" he called out moving amidst the frozen horrified guests.

"Reid! Call 911!"

"What happened?" he asked when he saw both Annie and Morgan on the ground. The girl looked barely conscious. But what caught his attention the most was Morgan's hands pressed against her side- they were red.

"I think she's been shot."


	2. Chapter 2

The moment his wife came barging through the his office door, Arthur Campbell immediately knew something was terribly wrong. None of them were the type to scare easy. A strong stomach and conviction are necessities in their field, especially for an operative. Joan, being a former operative and now head of the domestic protection division, was no exception.

In fact, some say that his wife had nerves of steel.

Truth be told, it's probably partly why he married her.

So when she came through the door, grim, unnaturally pale and a large fresh coffee stain on her normally perfectly clean dress, Arthur knew. He placed his pen down and took a deep breath. "Who is it?" he asked.

The answer came from her lips almost like a whisper. "Annie Walker."

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the back of his chair. "Is she-"

"No," Joan automatically replied. "But she's still on the table. I've sent Auggie. I thought Annie's sister deserved a familiar face."

"That's a good idea. Hopefully, she won't be the third this week." Arthur sighed, fingering a name card on his desk, thoughtfully. "Do we have any leads?"

"Everyone's spooked, Arthur. You can't expect-" she started to argue.

He frowned. "Do we have any leads?" he repeated.

"No." Joan spat out the admission like a curse. "I have this sneaking suspicion this is an inside job. Annie's better than most with her cover. Nobody could have known different."

Arthur tapped the card he was playing with twice on his hardwood table before leaning forward. "I've been thinking about bringing some outside help in," he said.

Eyebrows went up in surprise, curiosity and the slightest hint of animosity. "Outside help?"

"We're too close to this, Joan. It's one thing to call me incompetent in the news and another thing to burn an operative." he reasoned, with a slight shake of his head. "We need help."

"Well, who were you thinking? How much access to they get?" his wife inquired with increasing hostility.

"Given that someone's targeting our ops and potentially ruining all our operations overseas, as much as they want," he replied passing the card across the table.

He watched his wife eye the name with furrowed brows. "The FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit?"

"A few years back, we had a mole. Bruno Hawks. Remember him? Then deputy director of operations. They flushed him out," he reminded her.

"But Jason Gideon already did the psych evaluation for that group. Gideon is gone," she argued.

"I hear Aaron Hotchner has picked up the leader role nicely. And they have David Rossi," he countered

He saw his wife shoot him a look of disbelief. "That team spends their free time running around trying to avenge one of their own."

"So much the better," he said. "They already know what we're going through."

"They have a possible inquiry hanging over their heads," she continued.

He took the card back and picked up his phone. "And we have a killer hanging over ours _now_."

ooo 000 oooo

Two phone calls.

Considering everything that has happened with Prentiss,Strauss, the department cuts and whispers of an inquiry committee, Agent Aaron Hotchner sometimes wondered how he got any sleep at all. He didn't know he had dozed off sitting down on the edge of his son's bed when he tucked him in, staying a little bit longer until the little guy fell asleep. He only noticed when he was rudely awakened by the sound of the phone ringing.

The first call was from Morgan and Reid. Both were in the hospital but thankfully weren't hurt. He knew, of course, that the two attended a museum exhibit preview. But how somebody could get shot in one was new to him. What was more troubling was the fact that the victim, one Annie Walker, was talking to Morgan when it happened- Morgan of all people. In his team, the profiler from Chicago was the one with ATF experience, who's eyes and ears were always open, making sure that the people he was with were always safe.

So if he couldn't identify where the danger came from- Hotch knew, just knew, that it would only be a matter of time until the case runs cold or the police asks for their assistance.

Hotch gave them two very clear instructions: Cooperate with the police and go home. They didn't have jurisdiction, not yet anyway.

The second call came later. After Hotch had cleaned his dinner table, picked up Jack's toys and was elbow deep in dirty dishes, his mobile phone rang. He sighed, wondering if any of his team had gotten into trouble once more. But the very first sentence caught him off guard- the person in the other line asked for a password- a password he had never had to use in his time in the FBI.

He had given it and the person asked him to wait a moment.

"Hello, Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner," a friendly, yet serious baritone voice greeted, "This is Arthur Campbell, Director-"

"Director of the Clandestine Service," Hotch finished for him, sinking down on a stool. If the DCS is calling him, something was definitely not right tonight. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Well, you see Agent Hotchner, we have a little problem," he started.

The conversation was brief- the CIA after all didn't like to discuss things over the phone. But the DCS did drop a name that made him close his eyes and groan inwardly. Anne Walker. There can't be another Anne Walker being shot tonight. Annie, he guessed was a nickname. Morgan and Reid were right in the middle of a CIA investigation they didn't even know about.

"Of course, sir. I'll recall my team tonight," Hotch said. "Should we meet you in-'

"Actually, given the current situation, we were thinking of meeting you in Quantico. If it's not too much trouble," Director Campbell replied.

Not that he actually explained the situation at all but Hotch figured there was some plan to feign like the operatives involved were going home but really just changing headquarters. This was the CIA after all.

"Of course not. We'll be there as soon as possible," he affirmed.

And with nothing else, the call ended.

And it was his turn to make some calls.


	3. Chapter 3

She was sure the blurry white thing above her wasn't her ceiling. In fact, the air smelled like alcohol- not the drinking kind- and sanitizer. Plus there was this weird beeping sound by her right ear. This definitely was not her place. And as a spy, the first reason she could think of that had brought her to this state was that she's been burned and probably captured. Panic started to set in when her eyes seemed to decide to take its time to focus and she found a needle sticking in one of her hands- that is, until she heard the smooth sarcastic baritone of her handler's voice.

"I think we have a live one."

Annie Walker let herself relax and took a deep breath as she heard some kind of rustling somewhere in the room. "Oh, Annie," came the half sobbed cry of concern from her sister, who apparently moved from where ever she was sitting to the side of her bed, "How do you feel?"

"Like you gave me too much tequila," she managed to mumble as the visage of her sister's flushed face cleared.

"I told you to go light on the drinks in the museum party, Ms. Walker," Auggie Anderson said lightly. "The well off have some good stuff."

Annie groaned. The museum. It was all coming back to her now. She was talking up some attractive smooth talking guy who came with an equally cute academic type when she felt something rip on her side. She saw the blood, and like a totally newbie operative, collapsed on said attractive smooth talking guy. "Was I shot?" she finally asked.

"The doctors say you're very lucky," Danielle said, smoothing away the stray strands from her forehead gently. "They said you got here in record time. Derek and Spencer made sure of that."

"...Derek and Spencer?" Annie prompted, groggily.

"The two cute guys you were with... Derek caught you when you fell..." her sister reminded her.

"Oh. Right." She took another deep breath.

"And Auggie's been nice enough to stay with me and wait until you woke up," Dani conitnued on with her report. "He even helped me badger the doctors for information."

Annie felt herself smile, feeling a bit overwhelmed at how much she's been taken care of. "I owe you a sandwich, Auggie."

"You owe him more than a sandwich, I think," Dani quipped.

"Now, now, ladies," the blind man chuckled. "I have it on good authority that this hospital happens to make the best cherry jello. I'm just here to steal Annie's." He stood up, took his cane out of his pocket and smiled. "Give me the jello and I promise nobody gets hurt."

Annie snorted. She was, was however, glad that he was here to make the situation lighter than it should be. She was sure he was the reason why her sister was holding up so well. But it doesn't change the facts. She was shot. Given that there have been operatives being targeted all this week, she couldn't help but think that she should've been another victim. Dead. "Auggie..."

And like a mindreader, she saw the man tilt his head and frown ever so slightly. "We're looking into it," he immediately answered. "In the mean time, we've posted uniforms on the doors. I've also taken the liberty of posting some around Danielle's house as a precaution," he said, just as his phone started ringing. "So you Walkers ladies can rest easy tonight knowing that the police is standing guard."

"The two guys- Derek and Spencer-"

"Didn't do it," he replied knowingly. "I'm quite impressed on who you pick up in these soirees, Annie dearest."

"What do you mean?"

Dani patted her hand. "They were offduty FBI agents."

Annie shifted her gaze to the blind mam who just put the phone back into his pocket after listening to a message. "Auggie?"

"They're as straight laced as they come," he confirmed, trying to feel his way towards the door. "That being said- remember to drink two aspirins and call me in the morning, Ms. Walker."

Annie found herself watching Auggie talk to the officer through the glass walls of her room before a nurse came to accompany him out of the hospital. "It's going to be okay," she told her squeezing her hand just a little bit.

"I don't know, Annie," Dani replied, quickly wiping tears out of her eyes. "Spencer gave me some statistic about how the police usually gets the bad guy. But then he doesn't know you actually work CIA and..." Her sister paused to take a breath.

"Danielle, it's going to be okay," she repeated, hating the way she couldn't say the words wth more conviction due to her medication.

She could tell her sister remained unconvinced but decided not to aruge. Instead, she stood up, smoothing her blanket and gave her whatever smile she could muster. "You know what's not okay? The fact that you got shot and you're the one comforting me," she said, trying to sound as breezy as possible through the tears. "You better rest up."

Considering that her head felt like a ton, Annie happily followed her sister's suggestion.


	4. Chapter 4

When the call came in, Jai Wilcox drove to Quantico as fast as he could. An agent escorted him right to the small conference room of the Behavioural Analysis Unit where he saw several FBI agents already seated, tablets on hand speaking amongst themselves. By the side of his eye, he saw the general shape of a tall man with floppy brown hair wearing a gray cardigan with his back turned and quickly went to his side, giving the confused looking agents a smile as he did so. "Auggie, I can't believe you beat me," he said, feeling slightly more nervous as more of the seated agents started observing him. "Do you know why we're here? Is she ok?"

"Um... I'm not Auggie," the floppy haired cardigan wearing man replied very cautiously.

Jai turned in surprise. Standing with a mug of coffee in his hand was a man who looked and acted nothing like the tech ops officer he thought he was.

The pseudo- Auggie pressed his lips together and raised his hand up in a small wave. "Dr. Spencer Reid..." he greeted, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Jai placed his hands in his pockets and smiled. This is definitely not Auggie Anderson- Auggie Anderson had an ego. More importantly, Auggie Anderson wasn't the waving type. "No, you are not Auggie. My mistake," he apologised. "Jai Wilcox."

"You think the CIA would spot the difference better," teased the eldest agent with a sports coat, much to the amusement of the others.

"Spot what better, Dave?" A more serious agent walked in with Joan accompanied by the actual Auggie Anderson.

Jai shook his head in dismay, taking the blind man from his boss and pulling up seats for them both. The blonde beside him leaned in, automatically. "I think they're wearing the same cardigan," she whispered before concentrating on her tablet once more.

"Nothing, Hotch. Nothing," Dave replied with a smirk on his face.

"Good. Because we need to get started." The other agent nodded. "I'm sorry to recall you all this late an hour. But the CIA has a problem."

"Someone is trying to targeting my operatives," Joan placed it bluntly. "It started last week, with Kevin Fernandez. Official cause of death is food poisoning. Silvester Reed died of pneumonia. Regina Balthazar died of heart failure," she said as photos of his comrades flickered on the screen behind him. "What they really died of is-"

"Ricin poisoning," Dr. Reid finished for her, with narrowed confused eyes.

Jai saw Joan's expressions raised in mild surprise. "That wasn't on the briefing notes you were given."

"There aren't a lot poisons that could be administered in multiple ways that would affect the same symptoms given," the young doctor answered quickly. "But the use of ricin is incredibly rare and there's never been a confirmed case in this country."

"You know what else is incredibly rare? Operatives killed at home. Before last week, there have only been five. As of this week, we've doubled that number," Joan continued calmly as more photos were shown behind her. "Jennifer Reagan was shot crossing a busy street in the middle of a summer thunderstorm. Troy Ramon is another ricin victim."

The young blonde beside him leaned forward. "You have a... mole?"

"We think so. Or at least someone is trading information on our operatives," Joan replied.

"And none of our assets and contacts seem to have heard anything about it," Jai himself added.

"It's silent overseas as well." Auggie shrugged.

"Believe me, keeping an attack on the CIA a secret from the CIA isn't an easy feat," his boss said. "DCS is grateful for your team's cooperation and discretion on this matter, Agent Hotchner. He's convinced that you can help given your experience. I will have Jai will accompany you to Langley tomorrow where you will find a conference room waiting for your team." She paused, pressing her lips into a half smile. " Except, that is, for Ms. Garcia."

"I'm still on a list?" the technicolour dressed lady pouted.

"Next time you want the prince's number, you should just ask me," the blind mind replied with a big grin towards her direction.

"Oh God-" the embarrassed analyst tried to hide behind her tablet.

"I was just wondering," David mused, "How long can you keep this out of the press given your on going problem with Liza Hearn?"

Jai felt his heart skip a nervous beat. "How did you know about that?"

"Son, I've been around," the curious agent replied affable as ever.

"We've been able to keep it out for this long, Agent Rossi. I'm confident we can keep it off for awhile longer," Joan answered. "But as you can imagine, Liza Hearn isn't my main concern right now."

"Our unsub might not even work in your department at all," the only African American agent postulated. "Given how low a calibre the bullet was, the firearm had to be pretty damn close. Annie Walker would have recognised him by then."

"I agree with Morgan," Reid nodded, putting down his folder. "Who else is privied to your operations but go about without any constant contact with your operatives?"

Jai can see his boss pale ever so slightly when he answered. "The office of clandestine services."

"Then that's where we'll start once Garcia is given access in the morning," Agent Hotchner decided.

"How about Ms. Walker?" the blonde asked. "Seems to me she isn't safe in the hospital. This unsub seems to just blend in with his surroundings and he's motivated enough to risk going to very public places. Chances are the unsub will find a way to get through."

"Seaver's right," Rossi agreed. "Reid, is there any chance that any doctor would allow her to be moved?"

"Patients can always opt to be discharged against doctor's orders. However, I've talked to her attending and given his description of her injuries, any complication that would arise would be major. I wouldn't recommend her to be moved unless Langley has better facilities than WHC," he replied.

The younger Wilcox couldn't help but notice the small looks of approval given to the young agent when the hospital was mentioned. He could swear Rossi just nodded and silently told himself, "Well, that's good," as he went through his tablet more. The colourful tech analyst looked more than pleased, patting Morgan's hand. Jai could have sworn she just mouthed, "Good choice."

There must be something in the WHC the DPD didn't know about.

"Then I'll post an one of mine on her door," Joan said.

"I'll can go," Auggie offered.

"Come on Augge," Jai countered.

"What?" the tech operative smugly looked at his direction. "I'm good in brawls."

Jai snorted. "Joan, I'll go."

Agent Hotchner took a deep breath. "Dave and Ashley would you mind putting Reid and Morgan through a memory exercise just to make sure. I want it recorded down for reference. Maybe you saw the unsub and didn't know it. Garcia, get the list of everyone working at the museum tonight. I want it ready for cross referencing once we have the CIA's systems online. We'll pick this up in the morning. Everyone should try to get some rest. We're going to have a long day ahead," he instructed.

"Joan?" Auggie prompted when the FBI agents left their own boardroom to get their side done after a round of quick introductions.

"We're going to do the same and get some rest, Auggie. Jai, you're going to the hospital. But lay back. If they're correct, the unsub, as they call it, might try to finish Annie off. " she said while she gathered her things.

"But Joan, Annie's not bait-" he started to protest.

"I know this isn't ideal but we need to go about this smart and end it as quickly as possible," the head of the DPD interjected as they all made their way out of the room and into the bullpen.

"Profilers in the DPD." Auggie cocked his head ever so slightly and grimaced. " Walking, talking lie detectors inside an office filled with people who's job is to... well... lie."

"Irony isn't lost on me, too, Auggie," the DPD head said. "Arthur seems to think it's a good idea and they did catch Hawks."

Jai shot his superior a confused look. "This is that same team?" he asked cautiously.

"Give or take," the tech ops officer replied as they stepped inside the elevator. "Why?"

"Surprised, that's all. I expected them to be older," Jai answered, leaning against the railing suddenly feeling anxious. If these were the same agents who managed to smoke out a CIA director... He decided then and there to be on his best behaviour until the FBI leaves. God forbids they find out about his other illicit activities.


	5. Chapter 5

Note: Summer McKenzie is an OC i use in my SPN and Criminal Minds fic. She's Reid's friend.

: Also, i'm not sure why isn't saving this in a crossover archive when I do save it as one. I check on it every time I upload a new chapter and it's always either in the Criminal Minds or Covert Affairs - but not in the Criminal minds X covert affairs. It's weird. Who knows- I'm sure FF will sort it out soon.

00 oooo 00000 oo 0 o 0

"Dr. Summer Wind McKenzie."

Summer raised her eyes from her tablet and met the mischievous green eyes of their trauma team's chief nurse rushing to catch up to her. "Nurse Charles Simon," she greeted the taller strawberry blonde haired man.

The man grinned, running a hand through his cropped hair. "Ask me what's happened while you spent hours with Mr. Xavier's flail chest and the haemo."

"Okay. It's three in the morning so I'll play," she said, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. "What's up, Chuck?"

"Your friend Spencer brought in this lovely Smithsonian girl who got shot in a party. Rogers says she's hot," the nurse reported with an expectant smile.

"FBI took the case?" she inquired.

"I think so," the nurse replied. "Your friend made sure to post someone at her door before he left and the hospital has double the usual amount of police that usually comes along with one of their cases."

She cringed."Then, good luck Daniel Rogers. Paperwork's going to be ridiculous," she commented as she went through patient files on her tablet.

Nurse Simon's expression fell. "That's all your going to say?"

She placed her tablet on one of the docks in the nurse's station before meeting the man's gaze again. "Dude, what did you want me to say?" she asked.

"Did you not hear me say that Rogers says she's hot and your friend Spencer ordered an army to guard her?"

"And?"

"Are you seriously telling me that you're not jealous?"

Summer groaned, knowing exactly why he was asking. "Oh Chuck," she replied, reaching out to place a comforting hand on the nurse's shoulder, "How much did you put in the pot? I'll reimburse you."

Nurse Simon pounded his fist on the table in disbelief. " How do you know about that?"

The doctor rolled her eyes and smirked. How could she not? She introduced them when they spotted her having drinks with some of the BAU agents a few weeks back. Ever since then, most of the doctors and nurses in Trauma team Bravo sort of warmed up to her-Not that they were what she would call friendly yet. But she was thankful they weren't as cold as they used to be. With the exception of Charge Nurse Charles Simon, the team had treated her begrudgingly because she had taken the spot of a candidate who's family sits on the board. She assumed they were being more human simply because she was providing them with entertainment.

"I overheard a bunch of people in the break room when I went for a granola last shift. You guys weren't exactly being discreet," she answered, shrugging. Then she paused at a file on her screen. "Anne Catherine Walker," she read out loud.

"That's the girl," Chuck confirmed, taking his seat behind the counter.

"Works for the Smithsonian Acquisitions," she read some more, biting her bottom lip as she redid her hair bun.

The nurse sighed dismayed with the result of his prying. "That's what it says."

"Yeah, but my buddy in that department never ever mentions a pretty girl named Anne Walker," she said slowly. Summer frowned, letting her fingers scroll down to see which room the patient was in. Her eyes looked passed the nurse's area and down the other side to where the blinds behind the glass walls were closed. "Hey Chuck, didn't you say they posted a cop?" she asked, making her way around the station and towards the room- the very same room a security guard with a uniform hat came out of.

"That's what they did. No uniform just a badge. Coz you know- they're FBI," the nurse confirmed while he checked his computer.

"So where's the Fed? And is that guy one of ours?" she pointed out.

She saw the older nurse look down the hall and frowned. "Nope," he said, "Why?"

"Call security," she instructed before walking briskly to catch up with the guard who was already three quarters down the hall. "Hey sir, are you lost?" she asked as she cautiously approached.

The man didn't even bother turn around. He bolted down the hall, almost slipping when he rounded the corner. The doctor ran after him, leaping over the carts he had thrown on to her way. "Make a hole!" she ordered, though she knew only a few of them would react the way she wanted. They weren't military trained after all- but the few that did made it easier to catch up with the guy.

If only the elevator didn't open when it did. A suited South Asian man came out just as the suspicious guard ran it and started punching the controls. "Dude, hold the lift!"

"Wha-?"

Too late.

Summer slammed her hand on the metal doors, reaching the elevator just as it finished closing. "Damn it!" she cursed under her breath.

"Is anything the matter, doctor?" the suit asked a bit too slick for her liking.

"That guy isn't authorised-" Summer paused, meeting the man's anxious gaze as she processed the information flowing in her mind. Anne Walker wasn't employed in Acquisitions, that she was sure of. It was a cover of some sort which explains her presence at the preview party. Together with the increased police presence, that could only mean one thing. "... Undercover cop?" she muttered, before running back towards the patient's room.

"The guy isn't an authorised undercover cop?" the man inquired after her.

She didn't bother to answer. She didn't even bother to look back. Summer reached the nurse's station in record time, finding her nurse friend on the phone. "Chuck, forget getting security to come up here. Go for a lockdown," she said as she passed him by.

"McKenzie," he called after her, holding the wireless phone to his shoulder as he trailed her, "You have to give me a reason to-"

"The bad guy was just here," she answered, sliding Anne Walker's door wide enough for her to get in. Everything looked alright enough. The patient was asleep on her bed. A red head lady was asleep on the chair right beside the bed. The monitors were all showing normal enough signs.

Maybe she had over reacted?

"Summer? What do I really tell security?" the nurse prompted behind her.

She took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves when she smelled something familiar but faint. "Almonds?" She turned around and slid the door shut behind her and locked it much to her friend's chagrin.

"Summer!" the nurse protested, knocking on the glass door. "You want me to tell security to lock the hospital down because you smell almonds?"

She approached the small table beside the patient where the food tray was placed. She cursed under her breath when she saw the half full glass of water with some white crystals still dissolving at the bottom.

Fifteen seconds, she thought feeling the adrenaline course through her veins.

With one hand, she grabbed an oxygen mask from the drawer, with another hand, she grabbed her phone from her pocket. "Summer, what the-" the nurse on the other line started, as she lodged her phone between her shoulders and her tilted head.

"Charles," she said as calm as she possibly can as she turned the wheel of the oxygen tank to release the valve. "You listen to me, alright? Put the hospital on lockdown and have whoever controls the air conditioning, to turn off the air conditioning. Then have every patient connected to the airflow of this room on an oxygen mask," she said. She took a big gulp of air before slipping the mask over Anne Walker.

She shook the sleeping red head lady awake before getting the smaller tank of oxygen ready. "Hello? Miss? I need you to breath through this, now, ok? Close your eyes alright? And stay low on the ground," she instructed, taking a deep breath before giving the mask to the visitor.

"What's going on?" the bleary relative asked, but complied with her request.

"Summer, what is going on?" the nurse asked as she started opening the windows she could open.

"Chuck," she said after going for a deep breath with the red head's oxygen mask, "Cyanide smells like almonds."

There was a pause on the other line for a moment. She met the nurse's wide green eyes staring at her from behind the glass. "Oh crap."


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Summer McKenzie is an OC i use in my SPN and Criminal Minds fic. She's Reid's friend.

August Anderson stepped into the hospital for the second time that night only this time a lot more frustration was raging through his veins. Though he tried to hide it from the nice nurse who personally escorted him to the trauma wing, he couldn't hold it back when heard Jai's footsteps get closer. "How's Annie? What happened?" he hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough not to make a scene.

"They're saying Annie and Danielle are going to be fine. Joan and the rest of the BAU are on their way," Jai answered quickly. "They're both going to stay in the hospital under observation. The doctors are running their tests but they're convinced that they didn't inhale a lethal dose. They're barely exhibiting mild symptoms." The operative tugged on his arm, prompting him to follow. "Now, as for what happened. That's another story," he continued as they walked. "I just arrived, coming out of the elevator when I see this doctor chasing a security guard. The guard managed get in the elevator before it closed... That's when the Dr. McKenzie went to check on Annie."

Auggie clenched his jaw. Jai Wilcox may not be his favourite person in the world, however he knew that he wouldn't do anything to hurt Annie Walker. In fact, the operative had broken protocol before just to rescue the girl. Jai cared- maybe as much as he did. "It's good that he did," he huffed.

"You mean she," Jai corrected. "I don't know how a trauma fellow managed to identify cyanide gas but it's a good thing she did. She's just coming out of decontamination now. She insisted that she be treated last."

"That's a doctor for you," he said dryly.

Jai placed a hand on his shoulder effectively stopping him from walking anymore. "You know how Dr. Reid was specific about the facilities of this hospital?"

"And?"

"Turns out he has a friend in this hospital- - the doctor that went to check on Annie," he said. "The charge nurse called him after the incident seeing as he's the doctor's ICE contact. So he's in there with Dr. McKenzie. I've already introduced myself as a good friend of Annie's before he came in. We'll use the same story. Let's go?"

Auggie reached out, stopping him from going in. He gave the man an honest wide eyed expression. There weren't a lot of times that he could say he was honestly surprised but this was definitely one of them. "Jai, did you just say Dr. McKenzie?" he asked carefully.

"Yes," he answered sounding absolutely clueless.

"Does she happen to be kind of pale, with long black wavy hair, bright blue eyes and a scar on near her brow and on her neck..." he let his description trail.

"You know her?" Jai asked.

"I more than know her, Wilcox. If you get my drift," he replied with a humourless smile. "We don't need a cover. She knows I work for the CIA."

"Okaaaaay," the other operative said, chuckling as he pulled him towards a direction. "Another Natasha?"

"Honestly? Not as dramatic," Auggie admitted.

He felt the slick tiles under his foot. The moisture stuck on his skin. He guessed he was in some locker room. Jai did mention that she just had a decontamination bath. More worriedly, he could hear voices echo through the room.

"Come on, Slim," a tired familiar voice said, "I told you. I was running after him the whole time. He didn't turn around or anything. All I know is that he's about 5'11, normal size, white guy with sandy brown hair."

"Alright Sum," the FBI agent's kind tone made Auggie smile ever so slightly. A few moments past until the young agent broke the silence with a slightly higher pitched tone. "Did you know that military statistics say that people who are exposed to cyanide gas and only suffer mild effects would make a full recovery in a matter of hours."

"You're ridiculous," he heard the girl reply with a chuckle.

"Summer! You're suppose to concentrate breathing through the oxygen mask."

"And how exactly do I do that and talk to you at the same time again?"

"I'm going to stop talking to you now."

"But you're still talking."

"No I'm.. Summer!"

Auggie heard a snicker come before a full blown laughter. He suddenly felt warm in the memories of the times when he was the target of her teasing and he was the one fretting over her. It was odd knowing full well he was coming into a situation that made him feel nervous. Sure, he's met a lot of girls- enough to earn him the status of the DPD's resident ladies man. But there were only a handful that really made their mark.

Natasha was one. She was one.

This is the third time they'd meet. But instead of coming to her as a Special Forces officer or a technology journalist, today, he was something she didn't like- a CIA operative.

"Excuse me," he heard jai interrupt the two teasing friends. "Dr. McKenzie?

"Hello, Mr. Wil-... Oh you've got to be kidding me."

Auggie felt her hand raise to a wave though he didn't know why he did it. "Summer," he greeted, mentally smacking himself for not thinking of something wittier to say.

"August..."

"You know each other?" piped Dr. Reid.

"Remember, I told you I dated a blind guy?" came a soft wistful reply.

"You never told me he's CIA-"

"That's because he is CIA, Slim." Auggie heard a rustle and the light squeaky sounds of sneakers against tile heading towards him. "I'm moving in for a hug," she warned.

It took less than a second. Auggie felt a pair of arms wrap around his neck and he pulled her in for an embrace. The warmth and weight of her was admittedly comforting. He closed his eyes and breathed in the lavender scent that always seemed to stick to her. "Hey, Summer Wind." he greeted a bit more relaxed when she finally stepped back.

He could practically hear the smile on her face. "Hey, August Auggie Anderson."


	7. Chapter 7

Joan Campbell leaned against the a wall in the corner of the small examination office the hospital gladly provided for them for the time being. In the CIA, when they wanted to know the truth, they used a polygraph. They had control questions. Answers became measurable. The method might not be admissible in court but then again, profiling as evidence was a hit and miss as well.

There was definitely none of this 'Close your eyes and tell me what you smell' nonsense. If the CIA wanted to know something- they just asked. Plain and simple.

"Really?" Jai shot her a look of uncertainty after Agent Morgan asked him what he smelled when he came in the hospital.

"Just do as you're asked," she replied firmly. She didn't exactly feel like being patient at four in the morning. Not when someone just tried to kill her operative again.

She saw Jai close his eyes and take a deep breath. "Sanitiser."

"And what was happening in the hospital?" Agent Morgan inquired easily enough.

"There was a guy being rolled into the emergency bay. Paramedics were shouting that he wrapped his car into a pole. I asked the lobby where the trauma wing was. Betty was the name on her name tag. She was very... accommodating," the operative smiled as he answered.

Joan rolled her eyes. Of course- This absolutely justifies the poll going round the office on who's the bigger player, Auggie Anderson or Jai Wilcox. Not that they know that she knows.

"So she points you to the elevator," the agent prompted. "You press the button and get in-"

"I was alone. Muzak was playing," Jai supplied.

"So you're listening and you reach your floor. The elevator doors open," Morgan continued. "What's happening to the hall to your slight right?"

"There was a girl shouting to make a hole. The doctors and nurses stopped what they were doing looking confused. There were several crashes and surprised yells..."

Joan raised her eyebrows in surprise. Jai's eyes remained closed, his brows furrowed as he leaned forward so that he leaning his weight on his elbows, on his knees.

"So you step out of the elevator and look around?"

"There was a security guard running towards me. There's a doctor right behind him. She leap frogged a janitor's cart. She told me the hold the door."

"Alright, let's settle on the this security guard for a second. What colour was his shirt?" Agent Morgan asked.

"Light blue. There was some kind of rectangles in the front- like the name badges had been taken out. It wasn't a new uniform-"

"And he was going right for you."

"He was wearing a black cap. I didn't think anything of it."

"Look down a bit. What colour were his eyes?"

"Gray."

"He looked like..."

"Like he was losing sleep."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I thought he needed eye cream and Visine. He had bags under his eyes but he wasn't an old guy. He was probably mid thirties or forties. That and he smelled like cheap vodka."

Joan saw the agent smirk. "Then what happened?"

"He went past me as the door closed. The doctor punched the metal doors..." Jai shrugged.

Joan crossed her arms against her chest. They knew what happened next with the cyanide gas in Annie's room. She quietly slipped out of the room just as Agent Morgan snapped Jai out of whatever hypno- memory exercise he just performed and into the adjacent waiting room where Auggie sat beside a wheel chair-ed Annie, the BAU took the rest of the space.

"Well, the good news is that nobody died this time. Although, how the unsub, as you call them, just waltzed in..." she said as she entered the room.

"He was dressed like a guard. He blended in," Agent Seaver pointed out defensively.

"You're telling me that the police and the FBI agent on Walker's door wasn't enough?" she challenged, crossing her arms.

"The agent stationed on Ms. Walker's door went to the washroom," Agent Morgan calmly replied. "Which means that the unsub was casing the room."

"Where is this doctor anyway? Shouldn't she be undergoing the same memory questions as Jai?" she continued.

"Already done, ma'am," the resident genius answered quickly.

"She didn't see enough to ID the unsub but she did give us very specific details that could prove useful. The hospital's security tapes are now with our technical analyst," Agent Hotchner added.

Joan stifled the urge to raise her voice and instead settled with a glare aimed at the BAU agents. It didn't take a profiler to know that they were hiding something with their non specifics. How they could ever think she would be fine not knowing what they were obviously holding back was beyond her. "Withholding information isn't the way to gain inter-agency cooperation, Agent Hotchner," she snipped sounding as good natured about it as possible. "Auggie, we're going to talk to this doctor. Find her and bring her in," she ordered.

"I already had a chat with her, director. Let's just say, you talking to her- it wouldn't be the best idea," the blind man replied calmly with that confident smirk she had known to trust.

Seriously. Joan was sure that the FBI couldn't have turned Auggie to become one of theirs this fast. "Is there a reason you're willing to let a lead go?" she inquired.

"Anderson dated her," Jai Wilcox offered as he came into the room.

The Tech Op Officer shrugged in a nonchalant way he always did. "I did. Which is why I know for a fact that Dr. Summer Wind McKenzie isn't going to be the most cooperative person in the block," he answered, staring straight for his superior.

Oh, she got his drift alright. Her jaw tighten at the sound of the doctor's name. She knew all too well that if the girl had her way, they would never cross paths again. Hell, even she wouldn't put it past the normally good doctor to pull a gun on her.

"Joan," the older Agent Rossi said bringing her out of her thoughts. "We now know for a fact that the unsub is nothing short but a chameleon. This guy is smart. He's organised and he isn't the type to stop once he has his target in his cross-hairs," he said. "We need to move Ms. Walker to a more secure medical facility for her safety and for the safety of the whole hospital."

"Where do you suggest?" she asked.

"First choice would be Walter Reed but since we need to keep this quiet, a government hospital might not be the best option, " Agent Hotchner replied evenly. "There's Georgetown, however you run the same risk you have here, there. Or we can have her moved out of state... The choice is ultimately up to you. The key is to keep her location as contained as possible."

"Joan, I can't leave the city," Annie finally spoke. "Danielle is already at odds with me being in the CIA and this whole thing just made it worse. So I have..."

She nodded prompting the injured operative to stop. "We're keeping you close but you heard the feds. We have to protect your location which means your sister can't know where you are," she said. "Let's get you transferred to a secured location first. Then we'll handle your sister and her family's protection," she quickly added when she saw the early signs of protest in Annie's face.

"I actually know a place to park our dear Annie Walker," Auggie said cringing as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. " And nobody's going to like it."


	8. Chapter 8

"You left her alone in your apartment yesterday and she opened the door to some delivery guy who delivered the package to the wrong apartment," the blind tech ops operative berated on his bluetooth receiver, leaning against his seat with a wry expression. "Summer, Annie isn't suppose to be seen. By anyone. I know you know the drill so what's with screw up."

"You shouldn't be talking to her like that..." the FBI genius warned the man knowingly before Anderson cringed, quickly taking the earpiece off with a pained expression.

Ashley Seaver took a deep breath, retied her hair back and flipped through the next file on her list. Her watch told her they had pulled another all-nighter in the CIA's conference room trying to find some connection that would lead them to who the unsub was.

The fact is that the men and women in the DPD's bull pen outside the glass wall-ed conference room could be the leak masterminding the CIA operatives' murders. Even the youngest operative, however, had hundreds of pages of files on them with reports of every sanctioned op they've ever pulled. They were equipped with the skills to deceive and keep secrets making it even more difficult to gather information and judge if their micro expressions were real or manufactured to look sincere when they're questioned. Added to that was the fact that every operative is connected to several others when it came to a single op.

What they had here was layers of layers of interconnected webs leaving Seaver to wonder whether any of them could indeed be the unsub.

"Look, guys. " Morgan closed his eyes for a second and massaged his temples. "Every person, I've read so far sounds like he's headed towards a major depressive episode."

"This is making me dip into a major depressive episode," the rumpled looking Jai Wilcox commented as he rolled his shoulders back.

"Morgan means PTSD," Ashley said, giving him a sideways glance.

"Oh, I know what he meant," the operative replied.

"Anything could have been the trigger," Morgan slumped.

"Maybe we should recap. Clear our heads a little. Get us focused," Rossi suggested. "We have a highly motivated and organised unsub who is unassuming enough to be able to get near our victims . Our unsub isn't a workplace shooter. Each event is cold and calculated. It isn't an impulsive action," he started off.

"Which means he's separated himself from the seemingly group dynamic of the DPD," Hotch picked up. "He's an is business, for him. It's nothing personal. For some reason, he's taken up killing our victims like this is what he's told to do. "

"So we're looking for a delusional person," the Joan Campbell quipped. "Great."

"Actually, studies show that 25% of assassins are delusional. The figure rises to about 60% when one factors in attackers that come close to their goal but get apprehended before they can carry out their mission." Reid said factually. "Our unsub's delusion is that these murders are part of his job. This is why our he could still work here and yet be absolutely impersonal about his kills."

"You know, I could almost believe this profiling thing if you actually found a reason why Troy and Annie and the rest of them are targets," Auggie Anderson said running his hand through his Braille keyboard. "Because so far, all we can find about these guys is that they weren't in the DPD that week. Not that they weren't working. Annie was in Belarus. Balthazar was in Afghanistan. Fernandez was in Mexico. Reed was in Brazil. The ones who weren't working were Reagan and Ramon. One was on vacation in Taiwan and the other was just down with the flu," he said. "You profilers are making it sound like one of us wants who isn't chained to his desk killed."

"Well, Auggie, then you should sleep easy knowing you'll never be a target," Jai ribbed good naturedly.

"Funny, Wilcox." The tech ops officer rolled his eyes.

Ashley Seaver couldn't take any more. This was what they've been doing since they got here- debating the finer points of their profile, looking through personnel files, interviewing operatives. And all the while the CIA resisted and poked fun about their jobs as profilers instead. She was sure she heard one of the tech ops named Barber call what they do "A bunch of carny tricks."

She needed a break.

"I'm going to get coffee. Who wants one?" she announced standing from her seat. As expected, hands went up. She quickly wrote the orders down on a piece of paper and hurried out the conference room hoping to get some sense of clarity.

To no avail.

Jai Wilcox followed her out of the room. "You're going to need help carrying all those drinks," he said, giving her an easy smile as they waited for the elevator.

The thing about the CIA building that Seaver found quite amazing is that they had their own food court. Hell, they had their own Starbucks. Jai Wilcox must've noticed how amused she was by the time they entered the mini food court because he started rattling on about how the screening process involved to work in the building as a simple barista. "Full background checks on each employee. Can you imagine, we did months of research on Stacie and the girl just makes coffee," Wilcox said, stepping forward on the coffee line.

"I'm sorry," Ashley excused, "Who's Stacie?"

"The girl on til is Stacie," the operative replied.

Seaver smiled at the smaller blond haired, blue eyed barista, grinning from ear to ear when they stepped forward.

"Hello, Jai. Looks like you made a new friend. I'm jealous already," the barista jested.

"You know you're the only one for my caffeine- laced desires," Jai returned gamely. "Are you ready though? Because Ashley here, has a list."

"Designated coffee runner," Seaver said, giving the girl her piece of paper.

"No problemo," the barista answered, grabbing her Sharpie from her apron pocket to start marking cups. "And for you, Mr. Wilcox? The usual?" she asked.

"Yes, please, Stacie," Jai answered. "And Auggie and Joan," he quickly added.

"And Annie?" The barista paused midway of getting a cup.

Ashley saw the operative hesitate for the tiniest of moments before giving the her a tight smile. "Ms. Walker isn't with us anymore," he very carefully replied.

"Oh. Huh. I guess... They were saying the doctors managed to fix her up." She returned the cup back on the stack.

"She took a turn for the worse. Infection." To her surprise, the operative actually sounded sincerely remorseful.

"Well... whatever it is you kids are up to, good luck," Stacie said as she handed them their change.

Seaver furrowed her brow as they stepped away from the til to wait for their drinks in the hand off area. She scanned the food court eyeing every stall and finally her eyes fell to the confused operative standing infront of her with his hands in his pockets. "You didn't actually tell her what your drink was," Seaver pointed out.

"...I didn't have to. Humans are creatures of habit," Jai answered tentatively. "It's like any other shop. If you're a regular-"

"They remember what you usually get," Ashley finished for him with a grimace.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Seaver frowned, visual sweeping the food court again. "We need to expand our suspect pool."

ooo - 00000 ooo

A/N: Sorry it took so long. When the world's economy goes wonky so does my life.


	9. Chapter 9

"No man," a low voice said, "Seven times. Seven. Like Seventh heaven. Like "What's in the box?" Seven," the girl reiterated as Annie heard her soft footsteps in the living area. The recuperating operative pulled herself up to a sitting position carefully and watched the doctor pause from her pacing, phone on hand, looking out the window in the space that formed what could be a doorway.

"Yeah. Salt and burn isn't enough for that..." She saw the doctor give her an sideways glance for a second, before she disappeared behind the floor to ceiling bookshelf that separated her living area and the bedroom in the studio apartment.

"Hey, I gotta go. Take care okay? Tell your brother to hang in there for me?" Annie heard her quickly excuse. "Got a human gig to attend to."

Annie sighed as guilt hit her. This was the third day she's woken up in Dr. McKenzie's bed and it's become blatantly clear that she had managed to put her whole life on hold. Annie knew that the doctor should've been adventuring in Guatemala but because she got swept up in the CIA's affairs, she was stuck in the city.

No.

Not even stuck in the city.

Stuck in her own apartment.

On her days off.

Annie wasn't blind. It was obvious that Summer had not wanted to get involved nor did Auggie or Spencer or any of the FBI agents want her involved. She couldn't hear the conversation beyond the glass of her hospital room but the doctor's body language was clear. So was Auggie's and Spencer's.

Noone wanted this.

"I forgot to ask," Summer suddenly slid to a stop Tom Cruise style beside the bookshelf. "What's your favourite animal?" she inquired.

Not like the doctor acted like the whole situation bothered her at all. The CIA managed to fake her death to put her in the morgue, into a coffin which was placed into a furniture delivery crate then delivered to the doctor's apartment. All the while, she was blissfully unaware of what was happening because they had put her to sleep. When she came to, she woke up in a steampunk decorated apartment, in the doctor's bed with Auggie, Dr. Reid and Summer congratulating themselves at her bedside for an op well done by clinking coffee cups.

"Animal?" Annie managed to ask blearily.

"Yeah. Today is Saturday. Saturday is animal pancake day," Summer explained grinning.

"A dog...?"

"Good choice. Snoopy it is." She disappeared behind the bookshelf wall once more, no doubt going to the kitchen. "Take your time, Smithsonian," she shouted out loud.

Annie carefully got out of bed and shuffled into the washroom for the quickest shower she had ever taken. Once she had gotten herself cleaned up and half dressed, she gave the door three quick knocks- a signal they had come up with so that Summer can come in and inspect her wound herself. Annie couldn't help gingerly pressing the spot to check herself though. Her reflection on the mirror told her it looked red and angry. But she reckoned that was what bullet wounds would be- red and angry.

"Well, it's not infected," the doctor said suddenly appearing by the open door holding a new roll of bandages, "But if you keep picking on it, you bet your bottom dollar it will be."

"How long do you think before I can... um.. get back in the game?" Annie asked, looking at the ceiling as Summer redid her dressing.

The other girl chuckled. "We'll talk about that after they find the guy that's trying to kill you all. You're under house arrest, remember? As I was very much reminded this morning, you're suppose to play dead," she reminded tucking in the bandages neatly with a clip. "Look, Walker," Summer said standing to her full height and placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, "I get that you're an operative and you want to go help. But fact of the matter is, the bad guy managed to get the drop on you when you were a hundred percent."

Annie incredulously watched the doctor shrug, turn around and head back to the kitchen. "Are you saying that I'm not good at my job? Because I'm good," she argued as she followed her out of the washroom, trying in vain to keep pace.

"I'm not saying you're not good at your job, missy," Summer replied as she went behind the counter. "I'm saying you don't even know who's after you. CIA operatives work when there's a target," she pointed out placing a Snoopy shaped pancake on top of the breakfast bar for her. "You're just going to get into trouble. Escpecially since you're injured."

Annie frowned as she slipped into her seat at the bar ruefully. "Well I can look through documents, and try to find connections..."

"Which the BAU has been doing," her host retorted. "Not that it's going to help," Annie heard her add under her breath as she turned her attention back to her pan.

She frowned. This wasn't the first derogatory remark against "The Company" that she's heard the doctor mutter in three days."I don't understand why you have something against the CIA but you're alright with the FBI. You do realise that we work for the same government," the operative narrowed her eyes at the girl expertly flipping pancakes into the air.

"Not so much as the institution as to the people," she answered honestly, sliding her pancake onto her plate.

"Auggie did say you didn't like Joan..." Annie mentioned.

"I don't like Joan Campbell," Summer confirmed turning to face her with her own plate of pancakes and a mug of coffee. "I don't Arthur Campbell. I don't like the senior Wilcox. And if it's anything to go by, the younger Wilcox seems just as smarmy as his father."

"Jai's a good operative," she defended.

"To you. Because I bet he thinks you're hot." Summer grinned before taking a sip of coffee.

"You don't even know him," Annie said taking her fork and poking on what was suppose to be an ear.

"I know enough," she replied with an easy smile.

Annie shot her a look of confusion. "You've met him once. In the hospital after the cyanide attack-"

The doctor smirked. "You see me on the phone a lot, right?"

Annie nodded taking a bite of her pancake. That was one of the things she did notice was how often she was on the phone easily speaking in several different languages- some of which she didn't even know. The bits she did overhear seemed harmless enough-Inquiries about emails, artefacts, directions on where to go or something really random for a medical doctor to know. But then, Auggie had warned her that Dr. McKenzie had a file that didn't make sense even to him because she's done so much but she's just turning 27. They even tried to recruit her once, apparently.

That was the other thing- She can cook. "By the way, I need the recipe to this too," she mumbled through a mouthful of pancake.

"Did you really think I wouldn't check up on the A-team just because the Captain's part of the group?" she replied, going through a rolodex and handing her a recipe card, just as her mobile phone started ringing.

"You checked- How? I mean... you're a doctor. And we're covert. Our covers are solid and..." Annie retorted.

"Yeah, well...I know some people," Summer gave her a non-committal shrug pressing her phone to her ear. "Hey! That was fast even by our standards," she greeted, taking several bites from her pancake. "Huh. Usual place then?"

Annie watched as the girl bit on her fork listening to the person on the other line. She saw the smile fade from the doctor's lips as her eyes darted beyond where she was sitting. The operative could almost see the cogs in her mind turning when the she sighed and grimaced.

"No, I'm not... too involved. I'm in the fringes. But you know my luck..." she trailed, narrowing her eyes at something on her window. "Hey, I kind of have to call you back," Summer said before putting the phone down, reaching for her leather jacket on the coat rack by the door, and blindly dialling another number while fixing her gaze to meet Annie's briefly, her smile completely gone. "Here. Wear this," she said when she made the short walk back to the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Annie asked, polishing off her last bit of pancake before carefully wearing the worn leather jacket that was given to her.

"Lift your spoon and look behind," Summer instructed firmly.

Annie did as she was told. At first, she couldn't see anything beyond a distorted convex reflection of the girl's living room. She had to squint to see it. There was a red dot on her translucent white curtain lining. There was a red dot a distance directly behind her. A laser was aimed at her.

She placed her spoon down. Instinct told her to get out of the way ASAP. But when she tried to slip off the bar chair, Summer's hand landed on top of hers. "Don't move. Stay still. I need to know the trajectory." she calmly ordered.

"They found me!" she argued.

"I know. Trust me. I've got you." Summer replied evenly.

"They're going to kill me if I stay in this position."

"Auggie sent you to me for a reason. If you can't trust me, then trust him." That's when Annie saw her smirk. "Hello, Penny Garcia. You might want to record what's going on in my street. There's a sniper about to shoot my window," she said before chucking her phone onto the counter. "Now you, spook. Look at me. Just look at me."

She took a deep breath and met her gaze. "Okay..."

"Do I look like I'm worried about some guy with an oversized laser pointer across the street?" she asked cockily.

Annie paused. The hand on hers was remarkably steady. The doctor herself looked more annoyed than anything. It was a look she's seen on Auggie when some other operative brought him the wrong kind of coffee before she could get to him. And Summer was right. Auggie did insist she stay with her and he's never failed her before. "So you want me to... stay still?"

"It's all I ask of you, Evita," she replied, looking at her front door when she heard something shuffle right outside. "Then you can duck below the counter and make yourself scarce."

"You're going to take them out on your own?" Annie snorted when the girl nodded, wearing a pair of leather gloves that she had taken from her back pocket. "You don't even know how many's out there."

"I have homecourt advantage."

"You're a doctor."

"I know where to hit so it'll hurt like hell."

"You're crazy."

Summer smiled. "I know, right."

"Now I know why he dated you," Annie said, just before she heard something crash on the glass behind her. She gasped, closing her eyes. Despite the doctor's reassurance, she could feel the bullet cutting through the air, ready to go through her skull.

But nothing came.

There was just a sound of door being rammed in. Or at least, the people outside were trying to ram the door in.

"You have to love military grade doors," the doctor's low snicker pulled her out of her frozen state. Annie watched as she calmly walked towards the banging door, shaking her head. She pressed her back on the wall beside the door and quickly undid the door locks when there was a brief lull. "Hide behind the counter," she ordered.

Annie ducked behind the counter just as the ram finally got the door swinging open without the hindrance of the door jambs. She crawled on the floor, hugging the counter as she went closer to get a view of the action.

There were just two people in ski masks carefully walking in the apartment with handguns. Annie saw the first one clear the doorway. That's when the doctor kicked the door the opposite way, hitting the second man with enough force to make him stumble back out the apartment with the door closing after him. She managed to slide a rubber wedge on the door frame before the first man turned, stunned. The brief pause was enough for the apartment's owner to come near enough to lash out a high kick. The gun went airborne and Annie took the opportunity to pop out, get her empty plate and swing it so that the edge of the plate hit the man's temple from behind.

"Nice. Swing," Annie heard the doctor comment.

He stumbled to the kitchen counter dazed, only to have his head forcefully slammed down on the counter by Summer. The intruder was quickly just a slump on the floor. "You don't follow instructions much do you, Walker?" the doctor asked as several more thuds came from the window, and several more bangings came from the door.

The operative jumped at every bang that came from both sides of the apartment. But then, she found herself able to shoot Summer a cocky smile of her own. "I try to. Sometimes," she replied, "Want to see that swing again?" she asked, grabbing the cooling teflon pan from the stove and pressing herself on the exact same spot beside the door where Summer previously stood.

Summer shrugged. "Sure. Why not? Just be careful about your stitches please," she answered, kicking the door wedge away and quickly rushing inside the broom closet several feet on the opposite side of the now distressed door.

Annie Walker couldn't help but feel a little bit childish when the door swung open, fast and furious. As expected, the man slowly came in then slowly swung the door shut when he was through- obviously learning his lesson from the last time. But before the man could even spot her, the broom closet door swung open and Annie saw Summer sort of lean out.

"Hey there, sweet thing," the doctor breathlessly drawled.

The man spun to the side exposing his back to the injured CIA agent. Annie quickly swung the pan as fast and as hard as she could. A nice dense thud came from the pan hitting the second intruder's head . Annie watched the man crumple unconscious while the doctor shut the door close, locks and wedges and all.

"You have some form there, Annie Walker," Summer said, as she searched through the second man's pockets for the source of a crackling sound. Finally, she found a small pocket radio. "I have your mates, sir," she said to the radio in a British accent as she walked to the window where the glass had started to crack due to the multiple bullets it had stopped. "If I were you I'd leave the fourth floor," she warned, "In fact, if I were you, I'd run."

Annie saw the last bullet embed itself on the glass right where the girl stood. Not that Summer flinched. At all. The doctor just stared out the window until the fire alarm of the building across the street rang through the air.

"Wow, ballistic glass windows and doors with customised locks..." Annie managed to say as she took a seat on the nearest chair, "You take 'safehouse' to a whole new level."

Summer answered with a sigh. "Too bad we might have to leave." She marched up to the unconscious men and knelt beside them. "Let's see who we're dealing with first," she said, pulling their ski masks off.

Annie gasped in disbelief when the second mask came off. She recognised that man. Only when she saw him, he had a cap on and a manila envelope on the other. Crimson spread across his cheeks when he realised he was knocking on the wrong door. "That's the delivery man from yesterday," she said, meeting the doctor's annoyed gaze.

Summer ran a hand through her dark hair, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "This first guy," she pointed at the crumpled man with light brown hair. "I'm pretty sure this guy is the cyanide security guard." She stood up shaking her head and announced. "We are definitely leaving."

000oooo0000

HAPPY HOLI-DAZE!


	10. Chapter 10

Morgan leaned in to answer the incoming call through the speaker phone in the middle of the boardroom desk."Garcia, you're on-"

"Summer just called me to watch her street," the rushed voice of their technical analyst came through. "She says there's a sniper- A SNIPER- aiming for her window," a panicked Garcia said through her furious typing. "I can't see anything through the traffic cams. So I'm finding a new angle-

Spencer Reid knew one thing for sure- He hated this assignment. Automatically, his hand fished his phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial button for his friend. The longer the phone rang without an answer, the more he could feel all his muscles tighten with dread.

""I can't see anything through the traffic cams. So I'm finding a new angle—" Garcia continued, as everyone in the room dropped what they were doing.

"Reid?" Hotch looked at him expectantly.

"No answer yet," he replied nervously willing for the line to get picked up.

"I have a weird view of her window from a security cam across the street. It looks... cracked?" Garcia reported. "The freaky thing is that noone at streetlevel seems to be panicking. How can they not see this? Don't people look up anymore?"

"Silencer," the blind former operative said. "Dr. Reid, anything?"

Spencer was about to shake his head and bury his head on his hands when a familiar voice came through the line, "You spooks have some explaining to do." He sat up automatically. Nevermind that Summer sounded like she was brimming with anger or that she was using a British accent, an accent she only uses when she's oh so very angry but trying not to show it, sounding particularly like her father. He was just relieved that she was alive enough to be angry with him- or rather, them. "Have you got any idea how expensive ballistic glass is? Or even how expensive it'll be to replace this door?" she demanded.

Spencer knew this was a lame reply but with his head swimming with stress and relief at the same time, all he could say was,"Your door?"

"Two frakking half trained idiots tried ramming it down-" Summer replied, pausing. "You know what, Slim? Talk to Walker."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Taking bullets out of my window because I don't want your people snooping around my stuff. By the way, the sniper was across the street. Fourth floor. Third apartment from the left if you're facing the damned building."

"Reid..." Morgan prompted.

Spencer gave him a weak smile. "Summer's very, very angry. She's passing me on to Ms. Walker."

"Put her in speaker," Joan Campbell instructed.

Spencer eyed the director with renewed interest. She hasn't moved much  
>from where she was standing and her expression was still as stern as<br>ever, but the profiler was sure that by the way she folded her arms  
>and the way she sort of reset her jaw, that she was actually far more<br>worried about her operative than she let any one of them believe.

No- this wasn't just an internal matter to her. This wasn't just  
>another mess in her department that needed cleaning up. This wasn't<br>just about the operation.

His suspicion was very much confirmed when he did as he was told and a  
>different voice came out of his phone. "Hello, Dr. Reid?" Annie Walker<br>tentatively greeted.

"Hello Ms. Walker, you're actually on speaker right now," he quickly  
>informed the girl. "If you could tell us what happened..."<p>

"We were having breakfast. Summer saw a red beam of light coming  
>through the gauze shades of her window aimed at me. She gave me her<br>jacket. She told me to stay put because she needed to know where it  
>was coming from-"<p>

"She told you to stay put-" Campbell repeated, giving a shrugging  
>Anderson a mean glare.<p>

"Then shots were fired. Then people tried ramming her door down. We  
>took care of them-"<p>

"WE took care of them?" This time it was Jai who sounded surprise.  
>Spencer didn't know how Anderson could see the disapproving looks he<br>was getting but all the tech ops did was give Wilcox another shrug.

"These two guys- one of them was the one in the hospital. The other  
>one was the delivery guy. How did they find me?" Annie Walker asked.<p>

"We have a working theory," Auggie replied. "A theory that doesn't  
>directly involve anyone in the department."<p>

"... So we don't have a leak?"

"We have one," Wilcox said. "Sort of."

"So we still have a leak?"

"Work in progress, Walker," August said coolly.

"Auggie, I'm putting you on speaker so I can send you the pictures..."  
>Walker said to them.<p>

"Send it to Penny G!" they heard Summer suggest.

"What are you doing?" Annie asked away from the phone.

"Hog tying these bastards like the swine they are," they heard Summer  
>answer at the same time a roll of tape seemed to be unwrapped. "Then<br>I'm going to cuff them to the breakfast bar for good measure."

"Where did you get the rope and the-" Annie paused and spoke on the  
>phone. "For a doctor, she has a lot of supplies she shouldn't have...<br>Not that I'm not thankful she does..."

"Different strokes, Walker." Anderson answered with a small smile.

"So what's the plan now?" Annie asked.

"We go off the map and disappear," Spencer heard her friend answer at  
>the same time the director said- "Stay put. We're sending an<br>extraction team to bring you in."

Reid shot a worried glance to Hotch and Rossi- the only two he knew  
>who could hold back the DPD director. But Rossi simply nodded to<br>acknowledge the concern while his own department chief just furrowed  
>his brow with a look that said "Let's wait and see."<p>

The genius' gaze landed on Morgan and Seaver across the table, both  
>just hanging back to see what would ensue themselves. Only, Spencer<br>already knew what was going to happen. Summer had made it no secret  
>how she felt about the CIA in general and the Campbell's in particular<br>without going into actual detail.

"Frak. Is that Joan?" Summer's voice grew louder, undoubtedly coming  
>nearer to her own phone.<p>

"You're going to stand down, McKenzie. I'm sending an extraction team-"

"You're an idiot," Summer snipped. "How many people knew your operative  
>was with me? You can't even keep your end straight, Campbell and you<br>want your so called dead operative to suddenly and very publicly come  
>back to life? You're going to painting a larger target on her back<br>and another one on mine."

"You'll be safer with us, McKenzie."

"I highly doubt that."

"She's my operative."

"Then it's her choice innit? She can come with me if she wants to live  
>or I can leave her here to wait for your extraction team who has to go<br>through the EMS that's blocking the street. Either way, I'm off to  
>deal with this rubbish elsewhere before Sir Sniper decides to come<br>check on his lemmings," Summer said. "Dealer's choice."

"Annie, I'm sending a team with Jai," Campbell ordered.

But at the same time, Spencer was very surprised to hear their own  
>tech op August Anderson say something very different. "Annie, you<br>should go with Summer."

"Auggie, what the-"

"Joan, we don't know how she does what she does, nor do we want to  
>know- but I think we can both agree she's good," Anderson argued.<p>

"McKenzie's involvement in this operation has come far enough. I hate  
>to think that you're letting your previous relationship in Seattle<br>cloud your judgement."

"With all due respect, director, I met Summer before Seattle. She calls me Cap for a reason. I know very well what she's like," Anderson replied calmly. "Annie, go with Sum and don't ask too many questions. Just go with the flow."

"Auggie, I'm with Joan on this," Jai interjected. "If they both go  
>under the radar, we won't know where they are."<p>

"That's the point," Anderson and Summer said at the same time. "CIA,"  
>the girl added derisively on the line.<p>

"Annie, stay put. Jai, get a team together," Joan ordered.

"Summer-" Auggie called out.

"Save the cheerleader. Save the world. Got it, Cap," Summer replied.  
>"Your bullets, boys and girls, are on my counter top inside an evidence<br>bag. I took one for me. Spencer has a key to my place. And if you  
>spooks rummage through my things, you might as well jump off the<br>balcony yourselves before I find you. The phones are going to the safe now-"

The sound of several bolt locking into place came through loud and  
>clear before the line got disconnected.<p>

Spencer Reid thought that it was lucky that Auggie was blind because  
>although the DPD director looked like she was calm, her little fidgets<br>was betrayed her. The profiler was pretty sure she very well intends  
>to murder the blind man if things go south.<p>

"Jai, go after them," Joan insisted.

"Director Campbell," Hotch thankfully interceded. "Even if Mr. Wilcox  
>leaves now, he wouldn't be able to catch up with them. We should<br>concentrate our efforts here."

"With a profile, you haven't made?" The director challenged.

"On the contrary," Spencer found himself saying. "Previously, we were  
>looking for a single person who we pegged to be an absent or off duty<br>employee. Now that we know that this is a group effort, the profile  
>changes dramatically."<p>

"Still there Baby Girl," Morgan called on the central speaker phone.

"Have you any doubt?" The tech analyst answered. "I'm putting those  
>pictures Anderson sent me through facial recognition. Nothing so far."<p>

"Then let's start with what we do know," Rossi suggested. "We're dealing with an organised group of unsubs. They're methodical. They're careful. The use of poison and guns and the lack of overkill- there's nothing personal about that. This is business. "

"At least one of our unsubs has to have a military backround if he's a sniper," Seaver said.

"And if he's targeting the CIA, we can assume that there's a foreign connection somewhere. At least one of our unsubs is a foreigner or foreign born," Morgan pointed out.

"I'll cross-check with immigration. How far back do you want me to go?" Garcia asked.

"Thirty years," Reid suggested. "The spike in immigrants started in the late 70's."

"Are you suggesting a sleeper cell?" Joan asked carefully.

"Is it really that hard to believe? We have multiple unsubs organised enough to put members into strategic positions each with his or her own function. This isn't a hit and run operation. This is a slow stew," Hotch said.

"If they've been here in the country for the past 30 years, and then the description that McKenzie and Walker gave us doesn't match. These guys don't look old" Jai pointed out on his tablet.

"They're not old," Reid realised when Morgan handed him his tablet to show him the pictures that Walker took. "Look how similar their features are. The bridge of the nose, the clef chin, the colouration of their skin... They're family. You know," the genius straightened in his seat and lifted a finger, "we could be dealing with the most traditional kind of clandestine cell system. This doesn't happen very often."

"Doesn't happen very often?" Jai repeated with disbelief.

"What Reid means to say is that traditional cells don't pop up as often as the others because of the time it needs to spread ideology, to train, to recruit, and quite frankly, to be activated- which is why these type of cell usually involve close ties- social, cultural or familial," Morgan explained. "In our case, it seems familial. By the time authorities get wind of them, they've already turned into a much bigger subversive movement, covert or not."

"My question is- what was the trigger?" Seaver noted. "You have possibly 30 years of basically nothing and then suddenly they come into action? When the country is on heightened security measures?"

"We need to review your cases again, director," Hotch said. "But this time, we're going to concentrate on operations in countries that we don't consider friendlies and operations where they may have been compromised. Reid, I want you to go with Mr. Wilcox and bring in the two men in McKenzie's apartment," he instructed sternly.

But Spencer could see a small hint of a smile, especially when Rossi added, "Let's all hope those girls hit just hard enough to stun and not to maim."

Spencer nodded and immediately stood from his seat and gathered his belongings back into his bag. By the side of his eye, he could see Director Campbell give the tech ops officer a small tap on the shoulder. Anderson had stifled an eyeroll in reply but followed his superior out the door with one hand on her shoulder and the other with his laser cane. Reid was sure of one thing- He might not be familiar with all the protocols in the DPD but boy did he not want to be in that other room right now.

Note: I'm sorry if the format is a bit off. I wrote the whole chapter on my blackberry. :D


	11. Chapter 11

Jai was thankful to be out of the office. He was an operative after all. Being cooped up in a room full of files and people who was there to evaluate their every move, wasn't exactly his cup of tea. No. He was used to a bit more action in his line of work.

And he did get what he wanted. Joan sent him for a retrieval. But who he was sent with...

He wanted his own team but the FBI agent he was tasked with made such a case about using local PDs and FBI agents instead of CIA that he agreed to be the tag along just he could keep the younger man from talking more. Not that he didn't think Dr. Reid made sense. Jai was just surprised how fast and how much the kid could say.

But even when he acquiesced, the genius went on- not about which agency gets to secure the scene but instead facts and figures on sleeper cells through the ages. It made the car ride feel so impossibly long, making Jai feel like he was in another kind of sleeper cell- the kind they used to cure insomnia.

He was more than happy to jump out of the car when they got to the apartment building. More so when he realised that nobody seemed the wiser about what was happening. One of the McKenzie's neighbours even expressed his concern when they met him at the staircase. "Oh good, you're here," the man said with relief as he bounced the toddler in his arms, "Something's up in Summer's. I called the cops about the weird noises awhile back but I thought noone was coming. And I did see her car pull out of the parkade, so I guessed I made a mistake and it was just the tv or 3B's construction again- though - thought that was done two days ago...Or whatever was happening across the street..."

"It's okay, Mr. Gerald," Dr. Reid replied calmly. "Summer is indeed out. There were several calls about disturbance so we're here to check it out."

Mr. Gerald tilted his head curiously. "FBI takes disturbance calls now?"

"Property manager called me. I'm her emergency contact." Jai watched Spencer excused himself quickly and get back to the matter at hand.

The FBI agent unlocked the 2 locks on the door and for the first time, Jai Wilcox smiled with approval.

There were indeed, two men with their wrists tied with their feet on their backs while their limbs were raised to be cuffed on the breakfast bar. Their mouths were duct taped reducing them to muffled sounds. Jai grinned watching the eyes of the two men eye them with alarm, relief then alarm again.

Jai took the keys on the counter and fell to one knee as two officers trailed him. "You boys hit the wrong apartment," he said as he unlocked the cuffs.

"Indeed," Dr. Reid agreed, tracing a gloved finger against the severely cracked yet shatter-proof glass windows.

The men looked positively relieved when their limbs fell naturally to the ground. Jai could only imagine the discomfort of being in a strange position for so long. The two didn't even complain about being brought to their feet and cuffed once again. The only thing that came from them was a small little yelp when the tape was so unceremoniously stripped from their lips.

Jai inspected eleven evidence bags from the counter, each holding a used bullet, surprised to see that some were from federal agencies and some local- like Tacoma or Atlanta. There was another bag with a walkie talkie inside and a note outside with a legible script that said "Touched this to threaten sniper" When he looked up, he was surprised to see Dr. Reid still looking out the broken window. "What's wrong?"

"What would you do?" the genius asked, eying the building across the street being scoured by the another FBI team. "Let's say for a moment that you're the sniper," he supposed when he turned to face him with a slightly scrunched expression. "You're across the street, you shot your mark just to realize the window isn't exactly glass. The two people that to secure your mark failed."

"I exit. Make a new plan. I wait for them to think they're clear and strike. Maybe outside the parking or the front door when the two come out," Jai answered, placing his hands into his pockets casually.

"So why did he keep shooting?" Reid asked reaching for the evidence bags. He took a the walkie talkie bag." No doubt Summer walked to the window and stared into that window across the street to where she thought the sniper was," he continued. "She said her piece. And the unsub fired his last shot straight for her. As a warning."

Jai narrowed his eyes as he neared the window himself. "How do you know that?"

Reid pointed at a mark on the glass where a new set of splinters seem to emanate from. "This is where Summer would have stood. This is about the height of her forehead. And Summer doesn't flinch," he answered quietly as he shifted in his place, no doubt uncomfortable at the thought. "There are eleven bullets here and Summer took one. That means he fired twelve bullets in total. Even when he knew that they wouldn't hit anything but glass. So why did he keep firing?"

"To scare the girls. They're being attacked in 2 fronts," Jai pointed out, motioning at the door and the window.

"You have a CIA operative and someone who's obviously prepared for an assault. Even if he didn't know about Summer's... tendencies beforehand, he would've figured it out after the first shot and when they couldn't knock the door down," Reid argued knocking lightly on the glass.

"He's getting desperate," Jai guessed.

Reid nodded. "That's what I think as well," he agreed. "Summer made his position. Is there some kind of protocol to follow in a situation where you may have been compromised?" he asked curiously.

"Exit asap and head to a safehouse. Wait for extraction or further orders," Jai said. "Which is what he did. He pulled the fire alarm and used the commotion to get away."

Reid frowned."But then he loses Ms. Walker completely. It'll be days before he gets another lead. He already failed twice. He's already getting desperate-"

"You think he's still in the area." Wilcox pressed his lips together and folded his arms as he looked out the window. "Or he could have followed the girls."

A small smile on the agent's face caught him off guard. "Then Summer would've taken him out already and this case would over. If there's anything Summer hates more than anything, it's being followed."

"You and Auggie sure think highly of her skills beyond the operating room," he commented.

"You don't know Summer. She gets... Scary," the agent replied good naturedly as he collected the evidence. "I'm going ask local PD to keep an extra watch on the area."  
>Jai Wilcox grinned as he helped take the bags and followed the genius out the door and down the stairs. "Just to keep an extra watch? What? No canvas? That's what they do in TV," He couldn't help but tease.<p>

"Until Garcia or the team can narrow down the profile, I don't think it would be helpful to have them look for an angry old man," Reid returned.

Jai snickered exiting the building. "I thought you guys believed in your profile."

"Profiling is actually-" The genius started to explain but couldn't get any further. Jai could hear it perfectly clear, the bullet piercing through the air landing on the brick facade right beside his ear. His eyes grew wide as he felt his whole body being dragged down to the ground and pulled against a squad car. "Are you hit?" A not so calm Spencer Reid asked as he patted him down.

"I'm fine," he replied as he instinctively ducked when he heard a familiar ping of metal against metal. "You?"

"I'm good. I'm okay," he said, gun already in hand, trying to peer out and see where the bullets are coming from just to duck after another ping on the squad car.

"You did say he was still around," Jai sighed grabbing his phone from his pocket. "You might've just sold me on that profiling skills of yours."

"Victimology also says that the target are operatives that were gone from..." Spencer Reid turned around and eyed him suspiciously, much to Jai's discontent. "Were you gone on-"

"Let's survive this first, shall we?" The younger Wilcox gave him a pat on the shoulder when the agent just stared at him incredulously. "Auggie, we have a problem."

Note:: If the format is still shoddy, it's because I'm still writing using my blackberry. Sorry again.


	12. Chapter 12

When it rains, it pours.

Not that he can see rain anymore but he could sure hear the loud pitter patter of a deluge on his window telling him not to go out. It was much like the taps of Joan's heels- or rather, the lack of pacing and the increase of mobile phone tapping. The cold eerie silence in his empty office felt like the eye of the storm.

He knew what Joan was like. She wasn't unreasonable. What she didn't like however, is being left out of the loop. What she absolutely hates is insubordination.

August Anderson knows he's managed to hit two birds with one stone in the other room.

Auggie leaned against his table and settled his hands inside his pockets and laced his words with the most apologetic tone he could muster. "I'm sorry I disagreed with you in there. But given the situation, Jai would never have gotten there in time and Summer's apartment isn't exactly a fort despite how much we both know she tries to make it one. Running was the only option that made sense," he carefully explained. "If I had made a tactical error, then believe me when I say that whatever punishment you dole out won't compare to the one I'll be putting myself through."

"You have faith in her? Even when you know for a fact that she basically hates the Agency?" Joan challenged. "Auggie, nothing will please McKenzie more than seeing us in our collective asses."

Auggie lifted his head and narrowed his eyes noticing the increased worry in his director's voice. "Is that what this hostility is all about? Do you really think this is how she's going to go about her revenge?" he asked, curiously. "Joan, Operation Barry was a decade ago," he stated plainly.

"That doesn't erase the fact that you just gave McKenzie the opportunity of a lifetime," she spat out.

" If Summer were a vengeful person, she would have done something already. Fact is, she hasn't done anything beyond staying way out of radar. So way out that we didn't even know she was here. She's housed Annie and Annie's still alive," he reasoned. "She might be angry at you and Arthur and Wilcox senior and a host of operatives, but that doesn't make her an extremist."

"And you know that for a fact? You haven't seen her in years. People change," Joan argued.

"Not by much. Besides, this is a joint task force. If she suddenly decides to pull the CIA down this way, she'd be pulling the FBI down with us. And please remember that the genius with Jai is her BFF. " Auggie replied.

"And that you know her from before you dated in Seattle, " Joan prompted. "How exactly do you know her from before that?"

Auggie shrugged. "She was a seventeen year old interpreter with the Red Cross. Apparently, she knows someone who got her the gig. Several units, including mine, were caught in an ambush. I ordered to take cover in this structure that by all means looked empty. But it wasn't. The Red Cross managed to put up a women's clinic against orders. Which was a blessing in disguise seeing as we had more injured soldiers than gunhands. We held out until cavalry arrived," he said, chuckling at the memory. " But do have any idea how disturbing it was watching a seventeen year old girl just pick up rifle and handle it like a she was from Special Forces? It's not something you forget. "

"Well," Joan managed to say, "Let's just hope she's as sane as you claim she is because there might be another reason she could stray."

The tech op's eyebrow went up. "Besides from people hunting down the person riding shotgun in her car?"

"Arthur's read Ben Mercer in to bring Annie back in two minutes ago," she revealed.

Auggie groaned. He couldn't help it. Mercer wasn't exactly his favourite person in the world and he has had no qualms letting people know. "Summer hates being followed. With any luck, she'll put us all out of our Mercer- related misery."

Joan smiled. He didn't have to see it to know she did. The little "Uh hm" sound she made said it all. For a moment, a brief second, there was calm. Until of course, his phone started ringing. "Auggie, we have a problem," he heard Jai say automatically.

"What problem? Didn't Summer basically leave you a care package worth of evidence?" he asked before he noticed that there were other sounds in the backround. What caught his ear particularly were the ting- ting- ting of metal hitting metal and the various sounds of gun fire. "Are you being shot at?" he asked, shooting Joan a look of concern.

"What do you think?" Jai said.

He heard the door open and a pair of clicking heels moving away. Joan was on the move for sure.

And so was he.

Auggie rounded his own table, letting his hands swipe the top of his keyboards activating his computer before sitting down. "Hang on. I'm sending help your way."

000-00

There were several ways to check if someone was tailing you. The easiest and by far the simplest way was just to stop in the middle of traffic, fake engine trouble, and have everyone pass you by forcing the tail to pass by as well or risk revealing himself. The next often used method was to make several irrational moves that nobody in his right mind would do- like making several right turns in a row- after all, going in circles isn't a logical way to go about one's day.

So far, the girls have done nothing of the sort which makes Ben Mercer wonder why Arthur Campbell warned him about getting caught. Apparently, the doctor was and has been a person of interest since forever. Arthur had said she was not exactly formally trained but she was good and the Campbells had some history with her- Bad blood from the sounds of it and a blatant overestimation of a person's skills. No 26 year old could have that much history. His orders was to eventually take Annie back to HQ if and when he could. But the safety of the operative was his prime function- a job he was more than happy to do.

This was Annie Walker they were talking about.

This was once his Annie Walker they were talking about. The duty was an easy pitch.

He has to admit though, it was getting a bit boring following two girls driving around the city. So far, he's intercepted them leaving a diner and gone to a drive through coffee place across the city and now, it seemed like they were heading for the mall in the other side of town. He could see the tactical merits of moving around a lot and going to crowded spaces. It does make the girls harder to find in general while remaining inside the city. But really, he felt he was watching a real life rendition of Sex in the City without actually hearing the boy or shoe angst-ing conversation.

It wasn't until the white Bug entered the parking that he took a deep breath and frowned. He was three cars behind them and this was the biggest parkade. There were always empty slots to park. "Just find the car fast," he told himself. They couldn't have gone far- Annie was injured.

He parked his car into the first slot he found and decided to go on foot. There might have been rows and rows of parked cars but most of them were gray or black. Washington DC wasn't exactly a white car kind of place. Nor was it a vintage VW Beetle kind of place.

It didn't take very long.

He cautiously approached the still car, looking around the near empty parkade just to be safe. Annie and the doctor was nowhere to be found. "Girls bonding inside a mall," he murmured, "How cliché." He rolled his eyes as he dug into his pocket for the bug he planned to plant on the Bug.

"I know right?" a Brit whispered behind him before he was reminded that the hood of old cars weren't made to absorb impact.

Before he could look back to see who it was, his head was forcefully slammed down against the Bug. He tried to reach for the gun he carried holstered on his back but found it wasn't there. Instead, he heard two distinct thuds on concrete, which he guessed was the cartridge and the gun falling to the ground the back of his knees were kicked in and his head was slammed once more, not on the hood, but on the front bumper.

Within seconds, Ben found himself groaning in pain on the ground while trying to fend off the hot coffee being slowly poured onto his face by a lady standing right behind his head. Water boarding- No, Coffee boarding wasn't exactly helping him see straight.

"What? You don't like coffee? I thought stalkers like this stuff," the girl said coolly . "This is a nice tracer. Who do you work for? "

The coffee stopped dripping on him. And for the first time, Ben found himself staring straight up at a blurry face with angry blue eyes. A deceptively calm woman looking down at him. "Well?" she prompted, tilting her tumbler just enough so that a small stream of coffee came falling down again.

"Summer!" a familiar blonde's voice echoed through the parkade. "Summer stop."

"Why?" came a genuinely confused reply. "He's creepy. He deserves it and I want answers."

Ben felt a warm hand on his just as the coffee stopped dripping. "His name is Ben Mercer and he works..." There was a pause and a sigh. "He works for The Agency."

"For the love of-"

Ben heard a frustrated sound come out of the girl and a litany of curses in several languages before he felt himself being helped up right. He blinked, wiping the coffee hastily off his face and onto his sleeves. "She's really a doctor?" he managed to croak out once he was sitting upright, eyeing the blurry shape of a pacing girl in torn up skinny jeans, Doc Martens and leather jacket.

"Hard to believe, right?" The comforting sound of Annie's voice was made even more comforting when his eyes started to focus even when his head was still pounding. "Are you okay?"

"He'll be fine. I didn't hit him that hard," Summer answered for him, American accent this time. Ben watched her lean against the hood of her car, unzipping her leather jacket. "I went for stun, not kill. I'm about 80% sure all you're going to need is some painkillers and ice," she continued, while fishing for something inside her bag. "Here." She begrudgingly tossed a small box of cooling gel sheets.

"I'll be fine," he reassured the worried looking operative as she stuck a patch on his forehead. "Nice leather jacket. Very Bad ass," he said, trying to stay cool.

"It's Summer's. She insisted that I wear it," Annie replied."Ben, what are you doing here?"

"I was ordered to keep an eye on you and bring you in if I get the chance," he answered honestly.

The doctor sighed. "So the Campbells are kicking me to the curb," she huffed. "That's nice of them," she sarcastically commented.

"They're giving you a way out, Dr. McKenzie. That's what you want isn't it? Not to get involved, " Ben pointed out.

The doctor just stared at him bug eyed. "I'm so over this," she chucked humourlessly in defeat. "Do you trust Mr. Mercer here, Ms. Walker?"

"He's a good operative," Annie affirmed.

"Dude, that's not a yes or a no-"

"I trust him."

Ben couldn't help but smile at that answer. He watched the doctor shrug. "Mazel tov!" she said, spinning her car key on her hand. "She's all yours. Live long and prosper." She rounded the car and pulled her door open, ready to leave.

"Wait," Annie said, before she could slide in her seat, rushing towards the doctor. "Whoever's targeting us knows by now that you've been helping. Your'e in this now as much as any one. Come with us," she urged. "We'll be safer together, right Ben?"

"Orders are to cover just you. But nobody said anything about not allowing a friend to come along." Ben agreed.

"Thanks, but no thanks," the doctor said, leaning against her opened door with small smile. "Arthur and Joan are nuts. Period."

"But you won't be with Arthur or Joan," Annie insisted. "You'll be with us."

"The cool kids," Ben added breezily.

"It's not just Joan and Arthur. I basically can't stand working for or with your Agency." Summer ran a hand through her hair. "The Company... Your Company," she replied, shaking her head. "You lie to everyone, even family, and call it necessary for the greater good. You disrupt lives and don't even see it. You leave mess in your wake no matter how covert you think you're being. I personally find it insane and inconsiderate," she continued. "I did this as a favour to Auggie and this favour has run its course. I'm going back to my life starting rifling through my the emails about my missed Guatemala trip, the hospital and getting myself new windows."

"They know where you live. They know where you work. They probably know what you drive. You can't just waltz back in like nothing happened," he started to reason.

She waved off their warnings. "This'll work out for the both of us. This could throw off your scent completely- like a head shoulder fake. And believe me, I'll be fine," she said confidently. "As for you two," she shrugged, "You're both down. You're both out. You're both going to take it easy. No heavy equipment. No strenuous activity. Get some ice and betadine. Keep your heads down and stitches clean," she advised, slipping into her seat.

"Wait, your jacket," Annie said starting to shrug off the leather jacket she was wearing.

"Keep it. I invest in Kevlar. You might actually need it," she replied. "Return it to me when it's over. You know where I work."

Ben took a step back just watching the doctor pull out of the parking spot. She gave them a small wave out her window before the disappeared on a turn towards the exit. "Huh." He folded his arms against his chest, pausing for a second to process what happened. By all accounts, he's done what he came to do- Get Annie. The process on how it happened, however, wasn't exactly something he was going to be telling people about anytime soon. Being jumped by the mark isn't exactly something to be proud of.

One question was nagging his mind though. "Who in the world has bulletproof leather jackets?" he asked his injured ex- girlfriend.

"The same person who has ballistic glass for windows," she answered with a small knowing smirk.

"Okay. So clearly, noone's after her," Ben commented sarcastically. He lead Annie to his own car, "With what Arthur's told me about her and what you're saying now, I think she'll be fine," he said.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," Annie repeated but remained obviously unconvinced as she slipped into the passenger's seat. Ben gave her the most comforting smile he had before shutting the door.


	13. Chapter 13

Penelope Garcia stared at her main computer screen willing her inanimate minions to give her a result. She tapped her pink feather pen furiously against her desk wishing that she had more processing power. She knew in her mind that it wouldn't produce the instant results she was currently craving for, especially given the extremely wide characteristics she was given to cross reference but it would have helped soothe her nerves.

And she thought working with the CIA the first time was bad.

This was a lot worse.

First of all, JJ wasn't around to keep her company while the two very large, very creepy CIA operatives silently watched her every move inside her own office. Secondly, nobody was really shooting anybody the first time around. Now it was like every other phone call was about some guy with a gun shooting at her friends. She almost spilled her coffee when she heard her favourite genius junior G-man was in the middle of a shooting- all because the CIA can't seem to wrap their heads around victimology.

How hard was it to understand that the operatives that are being targeted were gone at the same time ? Why in the world was that Jai Wilcox in the field in the first place?

A squeaky sound behind her made her jump in her chair. Quickly, she spun around catching one of those suited CIA goons curiously squishing one of her toys on top of the server. "Hey!" she pointed her pen at him, "Don't do that. Don't touch that. That's not for you to touch."

"But... they're... toys..." the guy started to object.

"Yeah. My toys. Not yours," she argued. Thankfully, the guy backed away so Penelope switched her attention back to the task at hand- catching the bad guy.

Problem is- most of these people who work concessions in the building had relatives or contacts of some sort from abroad. Narrowing things down isn't as simple as it used to be in this interconnected world. Add social networking to the mix and it's enough for a girl to become a technophobe like the young Dr. Reid.

It wasn't helping that the two unsubs in Summer's apartment managed to escape custody in the attack. Sure, Summer had given them pictures and took their finger prints but it would still have been easier to just intimidate and crack them open than to run facial recognition and prints.

It was a cross referencing mess and she knew it.

The usually perky Garcia slumped on her seat. "Why, God, why?" she mentally groaned. Her mental rant would've continued on if it weren't for her phone ringing. She frowned when she didn't see a name or number on the caller ID. Just as a precaution, she decided to trace the call even before she answered it. With her program firmly in place, she picked up the call. "Hello, you've reached the office of magic and mystery," she said, trying to sound like her perky self.

"Hello, Penny G. It's um... Summer," the girl greeted tentatively.

The analyst eyed her screen confused. She recognised the voice but the call was pinging off three different cell towers... "How are you calling me? You're phone, if I'm not mistaken, is inside your safe in your apartment," she asked curiously.

"Oh, I have another phone," the doctor answered simply.

"Another phone that just happens to be hard to trace?" the analyst questioned further.

"Yup," Summer replied without the explanation Penelope was looking for. "Anyway, do you know where Slim is? Because he's not answering my calls. CIA's officially kicked me to the curb. Which is you know, cool with me. Because I don't want to work with them anymore either. But I do need to know where to drop off this-"

Garcia's jaw dropped. "The CIA- WHAT?" she interrupted.

"Whoah, chill out. Walker's with another operative. It's fine," the doctor said, calmly.

"It's not fine. They've dragged you into this. You're a person of interest now. You're in danger too-" Garcia argued flicking her pen like a wand at one of her screens.

"Which is why I'm going to completely disappear until this is all sorted. Believe me, I've done this disappearing act before. I'll be fine," Summer said, breezily. "But before that, I need to know where to drop off this bullet I got from my window. Because I technically borrowed evidence but since I'm gonna split, I won't need it anymore. Which is what I was going to ask Spencer but he's not picking up his phone. Which is weird because he always answers his calls. So I called you... Why is Spencer not picking up his phone?"

"Because he's getting shot at," Garcia spat out, ultimately regretting that she let that bit of information slip immediately after. She could hear tires screeching in the backround making her feel a hundred times worse.

"He's being shot at? What is going on?" the now not-so- cool doctor demanded.

"He was._ Was_. Past tense. He's fine. He's good. He's as genius as ever. IQ intact," the analyst replied quickly.

"He's not CIA. He's not suppose to be getting shot," an angry Summer pointed out. "That's it. I'm done screwing around."

Garcia narrowed her eyes with concern. "What does that mean exactly?"

"I mean this laissez faire, go with the flow thing I've been doing is officially over. I'm going to Guerilla Radio these... people," she spat out.

"Summer, don't do anything rash. I like your first plan better. Remember the disappearing act?" Garcia gently reminded, trying to be the voice of reason.

"You know what they say, Penny G- It has to start somewhere. It has to start sometime. What better place than here. What better time than now," Summer quoted.

Penelope winced. "Summer, Reid wouldn't want-"

"All hell can't stop me now." And with a very audible click, the call was over.

And somehow, Penelope believed her which in turn made the analyst panic. "If anything happens to her, Reid's going to kill me," she whispered to herself knowing full well that she was absolutely unarmed when the younger agent gave her glare or the kicked puppy look. There was only one way to keep the young Dr. McKenzie out of harms way- find the unsub first. After all, she was the one with terabytes worth of computing power while Summer has yet to do leg work.

But even that fact gave her little comfort.

Until a little beep from her far right monitor caught her attention. There, on her screen, were the two official pictures of the two men who tried to enter Casa McKenzie courtesy of the DMV and the facial recognition software. A little tweak in the parameter later, she has it all- Name, number, address, family members, and everything else under the sun.

Penelope grinned. "All hell can't stop me now."


	14. Chapter 14

Dimitri Patrovski was glad to have a few minutes to himself before his family came back home from soccer practice. It had been a bad day. He sorely needed the time to be alone even if it were just the drive to the suburbs.

He's being forced to lay low because of increased security in the capital due to strange deaths. If that's not bad enough, there's a new player in town with a small army crossing lines with utter disregard of how delicate the black market's balance is in this country. The balance is even more pronounced, in this city, the capital of America, where security is the tightest.

Everybody on alert is not a good thing. It meant that every single move he was making is being watched. It meant that the slightest move could be a received as a threat and the smallest mistake could be an act of war. It meant that things could get bloody, for everyone including the authorities.

Dimitri did not come to this country to fight another war, he came to make money.

Heavy traffic was a blessing not a curse today. "What's going on?" he asked, curiously looking out the window seeing only red and blue lights in the distance.

"Scanner says there's a shooting, boss," his driver replied. "Police have closed the street."

"Oh?" Dimitri frowned. More complications. "Anyone we know?"

"If we do, the man has a death wish. Says he tried shooting at FBI," came the answer fro the front.

"Organised Crime Unit?"

"No word on the scanner which unit, boss."

Dimitri Patrovski sighed. His phone hasn't rang yet which is a good thing. He hoped this was nothing. Although, when the FBI is involved, he knows it's rarely for nothing.

000-0000-

"Penelope got a hit on the unsubs phones," Derek Morgan reported. "Looks like they all went home. Seaver and I are on our way there with a SWAT team."

"Good," Aaron Hotchner replied, judging the lady infront of him carefully. "Morgan, remember the profile. Don't take them lightly. They've used various hidden methods for murder."

"Don't worry. I'm already assuming the place to be booby trapped," Morgan answered. "Is Reid okay?"

"He's being checked by a doctor now," Hotch replied. "Be careful."

"Got it."

Aaron Hotchner couldn't help but glare at the Director of the DPD. This cold room of steel and glass might be her office but the people out there being placed in danger were his. "Did we not make the victimology clear for you? Was there something lost in translation when we said that the operatives at risk are the ones that are normally in this office but gone from approximately July 10 to July 20, 2011?"

"You did," Joan Campbell replied calmly.

"And you decided to let Jai Wilcox accompany one of my agents knowing full well that he was a target?" Hotch tried as hard as he could to maintain his neutral expression although he knew that he might be failing.

"The local police had secured a two block perimeter," Campbell reasoned. "You also profiled that he might be an operative. Now we know where he's from- Belarus," the director pointed out. "You have to understand Agent Hotchner, operatives leave when they've been made. That's protocol."

"You brought us here for-"

"Now, Agent Hotchner, it's also worth mentioning that it is not the CIA's job to secure the scene," Campbell argued firmly.

"The issue here is that Jai Wilcox fit the victimology which you conveniently ignored," Hotch repeated. "Your blatant disregard has not only endangered my agent but also every law enforcement personnel and civilian in the area. Not to mention the case of the now missing Dr. McKenzie, who we promised to protect, but is now out there on her own without our support due to a decision that your agency has made without our knowledge" he continued raising his voice slightly, not allowing the her to argue.

The director rounded her table with an air of defiance, leaning forward on her desk. "What are you saying Agent Hotchner?"

"With all due respect, ma'am, you're wasting our time," Hotch placed it bluntly. "I'm already getting calls from the FBI asking when my available because gang activity in the city has increased in the last week. If your and your operatives have no intention of actually cooperating, then let us do our jobs elsewhere. We have other cases needing our expertise. There are other people who need our help who are willing to listen."

000-0000- -

Patrovski loosened his tie once he entered his house while his men parked the car. He went straight for his office shutting the door behind him, wanting nothing more but to have some quiet time. He shrugged off his suit jacket and threw it on the sofa then decided to make himself a drink on the minibar.

"You're not suppose to drink anymore, old man. Remember when I said you're not allowed alcohol?" He heard a familiar voice say from his own chair in fluent Russian. "And did you know your skylight wasn't locked down?"

Dimitri spun around, ready to pull the gun from underneath his bar but decided against it when he saw who it was. He sighed at the young lady's disapproving expression. "You, my young McKenzie-" he replied in his mother tongue, wagging a finger at her as he reached for the soda water instead, "- You're supposed to be a doctor, are you not? But here you are trying to give me a heart attack."

"Please. It's your liver that's the problem, not your heart," the girl grinned, rising from the chair to settle herself on a stool on the bar.

The man ran a hand through his graying hair, leaning against the back counter with his drink on hand. So much for his alone time. But then, he could think of a hundred different people who could do worse than this girl. At least she didn't exactly have an agenda to end him or get even or get him into trouble or anything of the like.

He wasn't naïve. He knew that she had friends who worked for governments and institutions but he also knew she had friends in not so legitimate circles as well. She was friends with black hats and white knights alike. And he was sure that she had her own share of enemies otherwise she wouldn't always be armed with some sort of a blade.

His family, however, owed her their lives. The doctor had saved them from a shapeshifter several years back in Seattle. Then managed to save his eldest son studying in the University of Washington from a drunken brawl just the year before. He had asked for her second opinion about some medical scans of his mere months ago.

Oddly enough, she never came to collect on any of it. But by way she repeatedly stabbed the slice of lemon in her soda, he was sure that things were about to change. "What's wrong, little one?" he asked, concerned.

"You heard about the thing in my hospital a few days ago?" she asked tentatively.

The old Russian smirked. "The one they say is a gas leak? But that many police-" he shook his head. " Someone wanted a patient dead, yes? And the patient is in the protection of Uncle Sam?"

" I was the one who found out about the attempt," the girl admitted. "I kind of got mixed up in it..."

Dimitri's face fell. "Summer," he chastised, "You can say no."

"Ex-boyfriend and friends and... Peer pressure got to me," she reasoned with a sigh.

"You are not a superhero, child. You are mortal. You cannot keep tempting death like this," he warned her. "I should know. That's why I have bodyguards and informants."

"I know, Dimitri. And I really didn't want to. But now I'm kind of stuck," she replied.

"And you need protection?" Dimitri guessed.

"No. I need information," she corrected, placing a plastic bag with a shell casing inside on the table. "Someone tried to shoot through my apartment. I had a person do a quick job on it. It's a 7.62mmR."

The man paled realising it was her apartment shooting that caused the traffic. He knowing the implication of what she was saying. The bullet was common only in the former Soviet Union... "I assure you, McKenzie, I did not know about it. It is not any of us. I would have warned you myself if I knew that you were in trouble."

"I'm not saying it is, Dimitri," she said with a small smile. "Relax. There is signs of rusting in the cartridge. It's either an old bullet or an old rifle or both," She took a tablet out of her bag and handed it to him. "I'm sure you know about this."

Dimitri nodded, sliding his finger to turn the page. These were the very deaths that have been bothering people in his line of work. "We did not do this. We have no quarrel with these people," he said defensively, handing the tablet over. "What kind of information do you seek exactly?"

The girl shrugged looking equally confused. "I don't really know," she said honestly. "All I know is that these dead people used to be government agents and the way these people were killed sounds exactly like the stories my dad and his friends told me about what went on during the Cold War. Then there's this bullet that has Soviet written all over it," she continued. "You're ex-KGB and you know...a big boss. Did I miss something?"

And suddenly everything clicked in his head. The new player, the increased security, the deaths in the DC... He cursed, leaning forward on the bar and held the girl's hand. The new player was not a new player at all. The deaths were all assassinations. And his young friend somehow managed to get in the middle of such messy business. Dimitri sighed. "Summer, I think I know what's going on," he said, before he rounded the bar and took a seat on the stool beside hers. "I'll tell you everything I know."

The doctor gave him a surprised look. "You will? Isn't that dangerous... in your part... considering maybe there are some things I shouldn't know. Because you're... mafia?"

Dimitri chuckled. "This is one of the rare times that maybe we can help the authorities get rid of a problem for us," he replied, showing her a picture of the new man in town on his phone. "What do you know about how Cold War immigration?"

She shrugged. " People got out by lottery or people paid money...?"

The ex KGB mobster nodded and took a sip of his drink. "Correct. But there was another way to get out," he revealed, "By way of future service."


	15. Chapter 15

Anastacia Ivanov barely finished zipping up her duffel bag when she heard her brothers rushing into the bare apartment. She quickly went out of the washroom just to see them both doing the very same thing she just finished- gathering their belongings and stuffing them into a bag as fast as they could.

"Stacie, the maps, the plans... everything paper," her oldest brother Valerie instructed, placing a metal trashcan in the centre of the room.

She nodded and sprang into action, taking down everything that could be taken down and sweeping all the things on their small work table into the bin. "Your phones?" she enquired as her brother was taking down the smoke alarm.

Val cursed realizing their mistake. He quickly got his phone out of his pocket and dismantled it before tossing it into the trash. "Maxim! Quickly," he called out to his other brother who was currently zipping his own bag. "And bring the lighter fluid."

"Right." Maxim dropped his phone into the trash with one hand while spraying the contents with flammable material with the other. He then lit a match, looking to his siblings for confirmation before he dropped it.

The bin was immediately ablaze. "We have to go. Now," Valerie barked.

Stacie went down the hall in between her two brothers hoping that they had covered their trail good enough. This might've been something that they were taught to do since they were kids but she never actually thought they would have to use it.

Honestly, she always thought it was a game.

She never thought that the stories were real.

But as they came down the fire escape, she spotted a line of black quietly heading up. She froze, pulling her brother by the collar preventing him from taking another step down. "Val-" she pointed.

"Up. We go up," he decided as they all crouched down, hiding behind the banister. "We meet at the spot in an hour. Understand?"

They both nodded. And they reversed their way nd headed up the stairs as quietly as they could. Maybe it was wishful thinking on their part that everything would go well. But as soon as shot gun cartridge slipped out of Maxim's bag and bounced down the stairs, she knew they had to run.

"There they are!" she heard the authorities yell as they all scampered up not caring how noisy they were being now. Maxim had pushed the door to the rooftop open. Just like how they practised, they separated then and there, each going to different directions.

She headed east, where the gap between buildings were smaller. She could hear their instructions to split up.

Stacie knew she had to keep going. She knew not to look back. She just had to run as far and as fast as possible, hoping to lose whoever would be following her when she came down the fire escape of the fifth building and into a busy street. She knew she just had to reach that damned fire escape.

"Don't try it!" she heard a female shout when she launched herself from one rooftop. She landed safely on the other side, rolling forward to go with the momentum. Against her better judgement, she looked back. It was a big jump but she had done it several times before. The cops however, haven't.

Much to her surprise, there was a blonde FBI agent already running full speed towards the edge of the building, her face a picture of concentration. When the agent sprang from the building, Stacie knew she would make it. She knew she would have to get moving.

And so she did.

She heard the cop land gruffly behind her as she ran full speed across the rooftop.

"Stop! FBI!" the cop shouted once more.

She didn't. She couldn't stop. Her family was counting on her. She had to make it to the fire escape. She had to lose the cops.

She only two steps away from the fire escape when she felt the weight of another person take her off her feet. The youngest Ivanov tried to kick the blonde away but the FBI agent was quicker and managed to place her hands in cuffs.

"You're under arrest," the agent huffed, pulling her up and pushing to the other authorities just filing out of the building's rooftop access.

"Seaver," Stacie heard a crackled sound coming from the girl's collar.

"Morgan, I got Anastacia Ivanov," the blonde report on her receiver.

"Good. We got them all," came the crackled reply.

Stacie's heart sank. This was the worst possible outcome that they could ever imagine. But she knew what to do. She met her arresting agent's gaze, the blonde woman called Seaver, and vowed not to say anything.

Not one word.

00 - oooo – oooo

Spencer Reid couldn't read any of the files any more, nor could he even think of touching the food laid out for each of them. While Morgan, Seaver, Rossi and Hotch left to secure their three unsubs in holding, he was tasked to stay and see what else they could have missed. By the looks from the screens set up, the three siblings haven't said a word, though he could make a case that their expressions were telling the profilers plenty.

He see the blind CIA analyst stifle a groan as a conversation ended with an operative in London. Auggie placed his bluetooth earpiece down on the table a bit more forcefully than he had previous. Reid figured that for a blind man, the act was the equivalent of throwing his earpiece to the other side of the room.

"No luck?" he asked tentatively.

"Nope. I even asked if anything weird was going on in any other former Soviet states and there's nothing," the blind man answered. "And the city's facial recognition cameras haven't caught a blip of Daddy dearest either."

"Apparently, city cameras are easy to beat. Summer said all you had to do was look down or wear a cap and pop up a collar," the blonde across from him said. "Because most of the cameras were on traffic lights and bank machines."

Spencer paused for a second letting that information sink in. Much as he tried to denied it, that made sense. How many times had Garcia spotted an suspect using bank machine cameras after all?

"Seriously," Mercer looked up from his laptop with an amused expression. "She's really a doctor? And you dated her in Seattle?"

"Apparently, they met in the sandbox too," Wilcox added.

"It's complicated," Auggie snapped. "And it's not like we have an killer on the loose," he continued dryly.

"Children," came a warning tone from Director Campbell at the head of the table while fielding her own phone calls. "I know it's not conventional, Minister-" she continued on her own earpiece.

Reid scrunched his face trying to figure the operatives out. There was some bad blood here for sure and somehow Annie Walker was somewhere in the middle of everything. But his phone interrupted any further analysis he could have done. "Reid," he answered quickly.

"Slim! Look alive, sunshine. 109 in the sky but the pigs won't quit. You're here with me: Dr. Death Defying. I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your -" the other line greeted.

Spencer could feel relief flood through his system for a second before anger took over. "Summer!" he said, trying to control his voice to a reasonable tone. "Stop quoting My Chemical Romance. You have some explaining to do. You can't just disappear," he spat out. He noticed the other operatives stop to see where this was going.

"Gee Spencer, I'm glad you're alright too," Summer replied coolly.

"Where are you? I'm going have uniforms pick you up-" he said.

"That'll be a waste of time," she answered. "I'm outside the building. It's not like I have an appointment or anything. Aaaand I don't think these guards are going to let me in with all my... er... knives."

The FBI agent let out a frustrated sigh before looking back at Director Campbell. "Summer's outside. Can we clear her to come in with her belongings?" he asked, noting how most of the people around the table eyed the director cautiously.

Joan narrowed her blue eyes in thought. "Everything but the guns," she soon answered. "Jai, if you would do the honours."

Wilcox nodded. "This should be interesting," he muttered before the door closed behind him.

Spencer could see the room shift ever so slightly with the defiant movement of the Director heading for the most visible seat on the table and the unease the operatives exhibited for a moment. The silence was deafening. It was enough to make him squirm.

The stillness was interrupted by the door opening. Familiar FBI agents came in much to the genius' relief. He didn't doubt for one second that he could argue a case for Summer if he needed to. He, however, knew that he may not have the authority.

Now, at least, he had some back up.

Ever acute, Rossi met his gaze confused. "Reid, what's going on?" he asked.

"Summer's coming up," he answered.

"Thank God, the kid's alright." Morgan folded his arms against his chest.

"Awww thanks, Morgan." Spencer saw his unharmed friend enter the slightly crowded room. The short blonde wig caught him off guard for a moment but he offered her a small smile of relief when she gave him a small smirk. It was obvious, however, that her attentions were focused on the teams CIA members. "Campbell," she greeted coldly.

"McKenzie," the director returned in the same manner.

"Do you know who this is?" Summer enquired taking a picture from her bag and placing it on the table.

Spencer shot his friend a look of concern noting the murderous tone in her voice. She gave him the tiniest brow raise, telling him that quite frankly, she didn't give a damn. The black and white picture of military man walking out of what seems to be a forest lodge definitely wasn't what he was expecting and by the looks of the people from the agency, they didn't either. It wasn't helping that Summer's bluntness was making her enquiries sound like a witch hunt.

"That's the man who held us captive in Belarus," Annie Walker answered slowly, taking the picture from the table. "Actually, that's the exact house they had us in."

"And this is the same guy?" Summer handed another picture to Annie.

"He's in three piece suit but yes, that's him," the operative answered, placing the photos on the table. "This was time stamped three days ago."

"Because that was taken near Potomac park. Congratulations, you pissed off the secret police and brought them to the capital," Summer sighed. "Just when I thought it was safe to hang out in D.C."

"Where did you get these photos, McKenzie?" Joan asked.

"Don't worry, Joan. I haven't compromised any of your operatives," Summer replied with a humourless smile. "In fact, I didn't have to. It's like the Gangs of New York out there."

"Gangs of New York?" Hotch asked curiously.

"Gangs of New York is a historical movie about the territorial war in the Five Points district of Manhattan 1863. Martin Scorsese directed the film in such a way that..." Reid explained until he saw Morgan signal him to stop. "It was about gangs. In New York."

"You're telling me that the escalating activity in the city is because of this man and this CIA case?" Hotch asked.

"This guy-Igor Svetsky. He came in via Vienna with a small army. Fake passports. Very real student visas. They're on a class trip," she said. "The not-so-velvet underground have been checking him out because he's been trampling in everyone's yard. I got the picture from the bratva and had a buddy from Interpol run it. Once I had names, the rest was pretty much just phone calls and emails."

"He came in and messed up the order of things," Rossi mused.

"Yeah. And placed guys of different affiliations to the morgue . The Latinos and the Italians think this guy Russian. The Russians are disowning him. The Irish think the guy's Italian. The African Americans think he's a white supremist. And the two Asians and the Middle Easterns are shoring up for a fall out. Everyone's been gearing up to rain bullets on this guy but short of knowing where retaliation was going to come from-" Summer continued with a shrug, sounding more annoyed by the second. "So I got the Russians to help out and the mafia held a telecon with most of the other schoolyard bullies. And since they want to show good faith, they promised support or otherwise back off. All except the Asians. But since one of them owes my dad a favour, I cashed it in and he promised to stand down and convinced the other guy to do the same."

A low whistle came from Auggie Anderson. "All that in one afternoon? Could you maybe do something about the economy?" he quipped.

"Don't be a smart ass. I only bought 25 hours and that started 3 hours and twenty minutes ago. Talking to these guys take a lot of time," came the sharp reply.

"You got the Russian mafia to work for you?" Seaver asked with disbelief.

"Work _with_ me," she corrected. "And it's not hard to convince people to take your side when the city is quietly in the brink of an inter-everything blood bath," the doctor said before taking a deep breath. "Look, dad always said to act and not react. All I've done so far until this point is react to your insane CIA FBI approach thinking it'll work. So as much as I don't want to act on this, the reality is that the faster this gets cleaned up, the faster I can get back my regular programmed schedule. So I need information on the sniper."

The director raised a brow in disbelief. "I can't just give you information. Not when you just admitted to having ties to organized crime."

"Cool," Summer replied calmly. "I'm out. Have fun," she waved, while taking steps backwards for the door.

"Summer," Spencer interrupted before she could leave, "Sum." He walked towards her and turned her around to face him so that the director was out of her view. "Take a deep breath." He placed both his hands on her shoulders keeping her steady.

"A deep breath isn't going to help, Spencer. I want my life back and fact is- I can do this with our without you people," she said, pushing his hands away. He trailed her as she walked out the door and down the small flight of stairs to the department's bullpen. "Besides, I got dragged into this mess because I took a deep breath and reconsidered. I didn't even want to help hide little miss blondie, remember?"

"Of course I remember," Spencer replied following her down a row of tables.

"And this is the thanks I get. I've gotten shot at and poisoned and followed. My windows are broken. My door's been rammed. People have been telling me off. I haven't slept since she moved in. My nerves are beyond frayed. And now, I've been stonewalled by the very agency who can't seem to clean up their own mess," she enumerated. "I left this life because of this crap. I mean- this is why I don't like spooks."

"So you're either going to pick up and leave or be a vigilante? You're just going to get yourself into more trouble," he tried to reason.

Much to his surprise, Summer stopped walking. She turned around to face him with a look of disbelief on her face. "Spencer, look at me. I'm walking around _blonde_. This is as much trouble as it's going to get," she argued. "Forget it," she dismissed, "you wouldn't understand and it takes far too long to explain. I'm going to Hoover Building to have a talk with Director Fickler. Fornell says he confident he can set it up," she said.

"You think the director will divulge information?!" He shoved his hands into his pockets trying to figure out if his friend was crazy or not.

Summer shrugged. "Hey, this is a joint taskforce. If the mommy won't give me candy, maybe daddy will," she replied. "Besides, Fornell's called to check up on me after the shooting asking if I've gotten myself in trouble with the underground so I know a little something about what's up in the organized crime division. If the underground goes to war, people are going to get hurt. That includes cops like you, Slim." She poked him in the arm. "And you've already been shot at once today."

Spencer narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Please reconsider, Summer, and stay here with us. This is far from an ideal situation. We can protect you in this building," Spencer said as they went out the division's glass doors and into a hallway.

"Oh yeah, because the CIA hasn't pushed me off the cliff twice today," she replied dryly, rolling her eyes while punching the elevator button. "Besides I told you- I'm Dr. Death Defying. I want my life back."

"Again with the My Chemical Romance," Spencer sighed. "One side will kill you for being in league with the other side."

"Oh yeah, because you guys have such a great plan," she sarcastically shot back.

"Summer, please," he urged, silently praying that the elevator never comes. But when the ding came, he knew there's nothing much he could do. At the end of it all, she was right. She had a way to end this conflict and they didn't. He couldn't hold her back the same way she couldn't dissuade him from joining the FBI.

"Later days, Slim," she said before she took a step to enter the elevator but all Spencer could see was a step towards impending doom.

"Summer," Rossi called from the other end making them both pause.

"Dr. McKenzie, you're going to want to stay," Hotch said, standing beside the older profiler.

Spencer barred the elevator doors from closing on his friend. He couldn't help but meet her confused expression with his pleased one. "You heard Hotch," he grinned. "You're going to want to stay."


	16. Chapter 16

"I propose we start from scratch, starting with full disclosure," Aaron Hotchner declared when they all marched back in the room. He saw Director Campbell shift in reluctance, eying him coldly. The CIA might have managed to control this taskforce before, but he'll be damned if he lets this continue- not when one of his own has been in the line of fire, not when it was the FBI and his friends in the frontlines. "If you have a problem with this Director Campbell, then you can always end this joint venture. The FBI can treat this as a RICO case. But if we do, we can't promise that the identities of your fallen operatives will remain covert," he added. "You've seen enough of what we do here to know we look into the lives of our victims."

"Full disclosure is what we agreed upon," Campbell answered.

"Yes, but it isn't exactly what you've been doing. You've been burying us with paper and disregarding our analysis," Hotch replied plainly. "However, we're going to move past that because we can't allow gang violence to blanket our city. Lives are going to be caught in the crossfire."

"I wholeheartedly agree," the director replied. "How about you, McKenzie?"

Hotch turned his attention to the doctor standing in the corner of the room meeting the director's gaze. There was an eye roll and an annoyed huff before she met his gaze. "Hotch, I-" she shrugged.

"She can't name her sources," Auggie Anderson supplied for her with an understanding smile. "Nothing wrong with loyalty."

Summer nodded. "Not everyone I know is on the up and up. Obviously."

"So how do you vet the information given to you?" Mercer asked curiously.

"Trust, personal history and mutual assured destruction," she answered smirking. "Look guys, you have your "assets" and operatives. I have my friends," she said before crossing her arms. "I'm not giving them up, Hotch. I'll tell you what I know as much as I can and I'll handle the mob for this job, but I'm not going to tell you which one said what. I'm not stupid."

It was Dave Rossi beside him who turned ever so slightly. "Consider what we know about how organized crime syndicates handle snitches. Consider for a moment that we have trouble turning one person into an informant and she's turned all of them for this one affair," Rossi whispered.

He understood. As a lawyer and as am FBI agent, he's seen what these people are capable of. The magnitude of the risk she's taking is something he hasn't seen before. Hotch met the doctor's gaze and nodded. "You said you went to the Russians," he said, taking a seat and turning it around to face her. "What made you go to them?" he asked.

Summer dug into her bag and pulled out an evidence bag with a bullet inside. "I ran this through a lab myself. This is a 7.62 Russian. There aren't a lot of rifles that take the Rimless Russian in the United States, let alone sniper rifles."

"The army uses it for training," Morgan pointed out.

"Yeah, the army uses it for training but ever see this in action in the streets?" she shot back. "The answer is no. Because there are so many other options readily available. This is some rare stuff."

"It could explains why our ballistics haven't come back yet," Reid proposed. "No matter how good our forensics team is, they can't identify a bullet through physical examination if they rarely see the bullet and digitally comparing the results with our database takes a lot of time."

Summer nodded. "And there was a little rusting on it which means that this was probably smuggled in a long time ago or it's transfer from an old rifle. Either way, the only people who use this on a regular basis, enough to have that aim, are Eastern Europeans," she explained. "And some of them know where I live. Some of them owe me. So they're not just going to start shooting all willy nilly without warning like crazy people especially since I haven't done anything to them."

"So you went to the Russians to confront them," Hotch finished for her. "And they gave you Igor Svetski. A bit convenient don't you think?"

"Hey, I stepped out of the house and double checked the information with Interpol, Scotland Yard, MI5, MI6, DGSE, and Mossad. It's legit. And I dare you to be more thorough," she said.

A low whistle came from the other side of the room. „That's a lot of agencies. How did you..."

„When I was a kid, I travelled a lot and met a ton of people," the doctor answered vaguely. „In any case, I'm betting that your sniper is Soviet and his family immigrated here during the cold war. But he wasn't exactly the richest guy in the world because he was army and the lottery is just a pretty unreliable way to get out of the USSR. So he did the same thing I just did- he traded his services to get his family out."

„Svetski made it happen. So he owes Svetski and now Svetski's collecting." Annie Walker shook her head. „Wow."

„I know right? I'm lucky. The guys I deal with are rarely jerks but Svetski- a class on his own. And here's why I say the Russian's story is legit," she said, „ Three years ago in London, Scotland Yard had an LDSK on their hands-"

„LDSK?" Annie interrupted.

„Long distance serial killer," Morgan defined. „Snipers."

„Oh."

„You're saying it wasn't an LDSK. It was Svetski?" Hotch inquired.

„The case went from the Yard to MI5 to MI6. The sniper confessed to everything when he didn't make the deadline. Appealed to the taskforce to save his family because he can't and he's out of time. They got there too late. The house was on fire. Forensics later showed that his wife and the grandkids and the babysitter were bound to a chair and killed execution style. His son and daughter in law were found dead in their hotel room. And when the sniper took one step out of the station because they were transferring him to a facility- he got a bullet to the head. MI6 has had it out for Svetski ever since but he disappeared from their radar," she related carefully. „And Svetski isn't the only jack off out there either if you trust the French and the Germans. But Svetski is the only one who killed _everyone_."

„McKenzie, you singlehandedly managed to alert the intelligence community about our problems at home," Director Campbell pointed out

„Lady, they already knew. I wouldn't have gotten the information so fast otherwise," Summer replied bluntly. „MI6 was the one who tagged the visas. Mossad found out about the forged passports. But too late. He was already in the United States and it isn't in their best interest to interfere and have to admit to their past failures."

„But they told you," Rossi said.

The doctor shrugged and gave him a sweet smile. „ What can I say? I was a cute kid."

"Okay. Hold on for one second," Ben Mercer interrupted. "So what were you going to do with the information about the sniper if we weren't willing to help?"

"Track the guy down and turn him into an ally," the doctor answered plainly. "The Irregulars already have eyes on Svetski and his boys- they're just waiting for me to clean up the loose ends i.e. cops. The sniper can help me go through data, find whoever they're keeping hostage... We can save his family together and the black hats can finally deal with Svetski how they want to."

"Okay, you make it sound simple, but we all know it's not that easy," Mercer commented.

"Which is why she needed to turn the guy- to use him as backup." Anderson grinned, leaning back on his seat.

"You know, it's likely that they're using the same M.O," Morgan said. "A father won't usually want his children involved in something like this. But if they're fighting for their survival, then if the family pitches in- then it's more likely that they get the job done."

"But it's more than that. This Svetski is a family annihilator fuelled by revenge," Rossi added. "He tortures these people in so many levels. It's not enough to threaten their lives if the job isn't done, but he also takes a hostage just ensure compliance. A person as meticulous as this wouldn't let the head go free. Daddy dearest was probably being watched."

"If the he was being watched, then so were his children. But we were able to arrest them... That doesn't follow," Seaver pointed out.

"Because they're not going to say anything. The best way to get out of this alive is if their father finishes the job without authorities getting in the way. And even if they did say something, once they step out of the building, there will be an attempt on their lives. Which lends itself to another problem," Hotch answered frowning in frustration.

"What's that?" Wilcox asked.

"If there are people waiting for them outside it means that there are people waiting for us outside," Spencer explained. "If they've been keeping watch on the family the whole time, then they'll know what Morgan, Seaver and I look like. And on your team, director- Wilcox and Walker." He turned to look at his friend. "This includes you, Sum."

Hotch saw the girl take a deep breath and close her eyes. When she opened them again, the warmth that he was used to seeing in them was gone. A stone cold blue stare replaced them. Even her demeanor changed. Her chin was lifted higher, her crossed arms a little looser, her form was more confident- brash even.

He was sure he wasn't the only one who saw the change. Morgan and Seaver exchanged cautious looks. Reid bit on his lip. The small pause made the blind analyst frown. Even Joan Campbell looked uncomfortable.

"Summer? Are you okay?" Rossi prompted.

"She has a way out," Anderson guessed. "You have a way out of this building without being seen, don't you Summer? I know you. You don't go places you don't like without having contingency."

"I don't have _a_ way out. I have three. So far," she answered bluntly, using a British accent this time. "I don't, however, hear a plan of action."

"Summer, you say that Svetsky is being watched. If you can give that information to Reid and Garcia, they can work a geographical profile. Find the hostage," Hotch instructed, earning a nod from Reid. "Morgan help Summer track down Mr. Ivanov. Do not approach. Remember that he's being watched as well."

"Understood," Morgan replied.

"Seaver, Reid and I will handle Svetsky and the hostage," he continued. "Rossi, if you can coordinate with the organized crime unit and the local police. As for the children-"

"We can detain the children here. If they can't leave, they won't be in danger," Joan said. "I'm going to talk to the State department as well as get clearance for McKenzie under her usual protocol. Auggie, Jai, Annie and Mr. Mercer here can help you in any way possible."

"We have multiple pieces moving at the same time, we're going to need all the support we can get," Hotch replied. "In fact, Ms. Walker, if you could come with me to have a talk with Ms. Anastacia Ivanov. Whatever information we learn from her can help bring her father in peacefully."

"Of course," the blonde agreed.

Hotch took a deep breath, taking out his phone from his pocket. "Then let's get to work. We don't have much time."


	17. Chapter 17

"Just establish a rapport and keep to the script. Even if she doesn't say anything, her body language will," Agent Hotchner said.

Annie Walker nodded and took a deep breath before she opened the buzzing door that lead into their interrogation room. It always felt like another world in this grey room. This was one of the rooms she didn't like. It was where they took their polygraphs and psych evaluations. Today, this is where she was to question the barista turned spy. It was like this place was meant to be built to be as uncomfortable as possible.

She took a seat across the table from Stacie noting that the girl couldn't meet her eye. Her chained hands were shaking on her lap under the table. She could here the cuffs' quiet rattle in the otherwise silent room.

"Stacie," Annie said as gently as she could, leaning forward on the table, trying to catch her gaze, "It's okay. We're not going to hurt you. We know what's going on." The barista just sniffed, tentatively looking her way for a brief moment before looking down on her lap. "We know about Svetski and the deal your father made. We know that he has taken someone you care about hostage. We know that your family didn't have a choice but to do as they asked," Annie continued. Seeing Stacie twitch a little, she decided to press on. "Have I ever told you that I have a sister and nieces? I would do anything to protect them. Anything. If I were placed in your position, I'd probably do the same thing. I would do anything to get them back."

"You would kill?" Stacie finally replied.

"If there was no other way," Annie answered carefully. "So please believe me when I say we have the same goal. We want to stop Svetski and save your family."

"Save my family?" she repeated with disbelief. "My family can only be saved if my father finishes the mission. My mother will only be released once Svetski is satisfied with our work."

"No, there are other ways," the blonde quickly said firmly. "Even as we speak, we've form teams to locate where Svetski and his men are holding your mother and to find your father and to find Svetski himself."

"Then you've sentenced us all to death. We are all being watched," Stacie replied. "If you want to help save my family then stop helping. Just let my father finish."

"We know you're being watched. We know we're being watched. But we have ways around their surveillance," Annie reasoned. "Stacie, you know me. You know what I'm like. If you don't trust the institution I work for then trust me. I'm telling you that we can beat Svetski. I'm telling you we have a way to save your family. But we need your help."

The barista clenched her jaw for a second, eyeing her with doubt. Annie wasn't sure what she should do next. Maybe Jai could do better? She stood up slowly in dismay but offered the girl a small smile before she moved towards the door. "We'll do our best anyway," she promised.

She took three steps to leave before she was stopped. "What do you want to know?" Stacie asked defeatedly.

"Besides from Jai and I, is there anyone else in the list?" Annie asked.

"Just one," Stacie answered with sigh. "But she wasn't here long... I'm not even sure if-"

"I need a name."

"Reva. Reva Kline."

= = = 00 === =

"We are not to trace where the messages are coming from. We are not to use any of the information given for anything else besides from this case. You will absolutely delete everything when this case is over. We will-"

Penelope Garcia sighed as Hotch continued on rattling terms and restrictions into her ear. _Take all the fun out, why don't you_, she thought.

"But sir, we're getting all of this data from bad guys that we can use in the future..." she tried to reason.

"Yes, Garcia we could very well use any information you can parse to put every gang and underground association behind bars in the future," Hotch replied, "but if we built those cases with what we gathered with this case, then they will go after Summer."

The analyst tapped a feathered pen on her lips for a second, letting the words of her superior sink in, "She really got them all to cooperate? All of them?"

"Yes, Garcia. She did."

"In less than a day?"

"Yes."

"And if things go sideways, it's sayonara Summer?"

"There's a very _very_ high possiblility."

_Two very's is bad_, Penelope felt something cold go down her spine not wanting to imagine what lengths the doctor had go to make any of it possible. "Okay. I promise. Nothing fancy."

"Good. Summer says she's going to message you her username and password."

"Roger that, sir!" She gave a mock salute to noone before checking her beeping phone. True enough, the message came from the good doctor with her details to a disposable email address. Penelope shook her head at the message after.

"There's honour amongst thieves. Happy hunting :) " it read.

"Honour against thieves huh?" Penelope said to herself as she logged in. "But there's nothing here," she said out loud when she saw the inbox read zero. She reached for her phone to type out a reply. "So much for-"

Then there was a small beep telling her that an email came in. Penelope paused, looking at her screen when the beeps became faster. She placed her phone back without sending the text, quickly glancing through the message summaries. There were timestamped pictures and locations. There were messages filled with details about what they saw Svetski or his minions did in a location- right down to what they ordered.

And the messages just kept coming. It was amazing. She could practically see what this evil mastermind did with his day.

_It's like evil Gossip Girl_, Penelope grinned. She adjusted her other monitor and brought up a digital map of the city. "We got you now, sucker."


	18. Chapter 18

"Gooooood evening, Washington DC!"

Derek Morgan sat up straighter in surprise when a voice came in his earpiece just as the truck he was in started moving. He looked across the van to the Summer, who was sandwiched between two pastry shelves and saw her roll her eyes. He shot her a questioning look which she answered with an easy shrug.

"By now, you should be departing CIA central and into the wild wild west that is Washington DC. In approximately 45 minutes, you should be at your destination. Please keep the aisles open and feel free to take the day old pastries in the box," continued one cheerful sounding August Anderson.

"Nice," Summer grinned carefully crawling towards the nearest box. "Mama wants a croissant."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"It's day old bread. Not poison," Summer said, adjusting her blonde wig when the van went over what seemed like a pothole.

He had to admit that when they took this case, he never imagined he would be leaving the building in the supply van of the CIA's pastry shop. Actually, he never thought that he would be doing something that sounded like it came right out of a cartoon show. Sneaking out the back through a van leaving the building is looney tunes material after all. And he was sure that he wasn't the only one to think so by the look on people's faces when Summer told them one of her many plans out of the building.

But in reality, it did work. It was working.

No matter how silly it sounded.

This is a regular trip on a regular hour. This is scheduled. And there were other fast food joints inside the building that had similar delivery schedules at different hours. The stalkers outside wouldn't know which food place's truck to stop or what hour they were going to sneak out. The bad guys can't stop every single truck that came out without looking suspicious. They would leave perfectly unnoticed.

"So sit back, relax and enjoy your trip on Bread Express," Anderson finished.

Summer opened one box. "... Cinnamon rolls..." she said sounding disappointed. "Jam on guns is not good." The lid went back on. She crawled to the next box.

"Kid. Seriously?" Morgan repeated.

"The smell of awesome bread is making me seriously hungry, Morgan," she replied, prying open the next box. "Sticky tarts."

"Let's go over the plan again," he suggested.

"When we get there, we wait for Auggie's signal. Auggie's going to call the lady who is going to let me in so I can babysit yet another spook. You're going to go deal with the henchman and then go deal with daddy," she recited as she started unlocking another box.

"Good. We'll just do this clean and simple," Morgan said.

"You know this plan of yours doesn't give you any back up right?" she commented. "I really don't understand why Rossi or Seaver couldn't have come."

"Well, they're just going to go take down an army of secret police," he quipped dryly.

"We both know Hotch can do that alone with his laser eyes," she shot back.

Morgan chuckled. "After all this, kid, you're definitely telling me why you hate the CIA."

"Is the events of today not enough for me to hate them? I feel like I'm in an episode of 24," she replied.

"You could've disappeared. Garcia said that was your original plan."

"But after I talked to Russians and saw what's what..." The girl shook her head. "Bodies are going to pile up in hospitals just because I decided to cut and run? No. That is not awesome. Besides, if things go south, I know a disappearing trick."

Morgan smirked. "Because you're Dr. Death Defying?"

"Absolutely," she confirmed, lifting the lid on one of the boxes. "Huh. The hell..."

"You found the croissants?" he inquired. "Because you're right. I'm getting hungry too."

"Nope," Summer answered tugging on her earpiece. "Cap, we hit a pocket of turbulance," she said slowly.

"Flat tire?" Morgan heard Anderson reply.

"More like stowaway." Summer crossed her arms unable to look away from the open bin.

Morgan's interest piqued. "Stowaway?"

"Stowaway?" Auggie asked at the same time as he did.

Much to his surprise, another blonde appeared from inside the bin. The sheepish look on her face spoke volumes. Morgan groaned- she was definitely not suppose to be here. "Annie Walker," Morgan barked on his piece.

"Annie... what?!" Anderson managed to fumble. "Let me talk to Joan."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're injured! Lady, you were shot. Meaning you're out. You're sidelined until the coach, _me_, the doctor, says you can go. Plus. Plus! You're public enemy number one. If you wanted to die so much I could just shoot you here and say it's physician assisted suicide!" Summer berated.

"You're staying in the van until your agency picks you up," Morgan ordered.

"You said it yourselves. You need back up," Annie Walker argued. "I can back you up."

"How? You're not the little train that could, Walker. You're the little train that's ridiculously broken," the doctor pointed out.

"I can be the one to go to Reva," the operative suggested. "Belarus was our operation. Reva and I were the ones who were captured," she said. "Please let me help, Agent Morgan. This is our responsibility."

Derek Morgan slumped in his seat and shook his head. As annoyed as he is, he understood that she only wanted to make things right. "You have 35 minutes to come up with something. If you can't, you're gone," was all he said.


	19. Chapter 19

Ashley Seaver couldn't believe it when she stepped out from the relative dimness of a tunnel and onto a well lit Metro station. Some people looked at them with some suspicion. Why wouldn't they look suspicious? They were just four relatively well dressed people, especially Hotch and Jai, coming out of a maintenance door marked 'Employees Only'. _Nothing to see here,_ she thought, _Just federal agents coming out of a secret tunnel from the CIA._

The sound of the on coming train quickly dissolved the curiosity of the handful of commuters that seemed to have noticed their presence. People rushed about, going on their daily lives leaving Seaver all the more amazed. "How hasn't the locations of these tunnels been leaked?" she asked, turning to their CIA guide.

Jai shrugged. "I didn't even know and my father once ran The Company."

"Then how did McKenzie know?" Seaver saw the door close and heard several automatic deadbolts come into play.

"I'm fairly certain she guessed," Hotch answered looking slightly pleased.

"She did," Reid nodded in agreement, "The Whitehouse released the tunnel program in it's website some time ago. It isn't really a big leap to think what they claim to be future expansion plans are actually already done. Or at least, partly finished."

" Mr. Wilcox, I think it would be wise not to tell your director that she's been played," Hotch suggested.

"Given the tension between those two, I think that's a good idea," Jai said.

"I second that," Seaver said just as she felt her phone vibrate. "Hello Garcia."

"Ohmygod," she heard the tech analyst gasp. "So do they really exist? The tunnels? They're not some urban legend or movie storyline? Is it really creepy and bunker- like with those, like, straight rows of incadescent bulbs that look like they'll suck the life out of you?" she asked in rapid fire.

"Um... Yes. They really do exist... Pretty much your ordinary tunnel?" she managed to tentatively answer.

"Okay. Mind. Blown,"Garcia stated. "Also , Based on Reid's geographical profile, Rossi's powers of deduction and my wizardry, I am sending you the only possible place they could be holding a hostage. " There was a very audible click. "Sent!"

"Thank you Garcia."

"Rossi just told me your chariot awaits outside the station. Be safe my lovelies, PG out!" Garcia said.

Seaver placed the phone back into her back pocket. "Garcia sent us the location. Transportation should be waiting above."

There was a round of nods and Seaver watched as everyone slipped into their game faces before following Hotch to the exit.

David Rossi leaned against the table behind him looking up at several monitors showing several angles where the two teams should be in a few hours. Anderson was on the other table, sounding like he just choked on his coffee. The other analyst he brought in, Barber, simply gave the blind man a sideways glance.

"Walker issue," the analyst murmurred to himself before returning to his own monitoring screens.

"I take that this happens often," Rossi commented.

"Not that they're going to admit," Barber answered honestly before catching himself. His chair swivelled around, his eyes wide. "Please dont tell them I said that."

Rossi gave him a reassuring smile. "It'll be between us," he said. "So these screens..."

"D.C. has the most cameras anywhere," the analyst said turning back around and sipping coffee from his own mug. "To the left are all the cameras for two blocks of Agent Hotchner's surburbia location. And to the right are all the cameras within two blocks of Agent Morgan's city scape," he explained.

"And these two blank screens in the middle?" Rossi inquired.

"Sattelite feeds, thermal imaging and whatever else we can get from the sattelites that should be in the area in a few minutes," he replied.

"Why not throw in a drone or two?" The oldest agent in the room suggested dryly.

The tech analyst paused. "That would be cool. We can do that," he mused. "Would you want one?"

Rossi smirked. "... It was a joke."

"Riiiiiight," Barber replied. "Gotcha."

David Rossi didn't have a chance too dissuade the analyst because the two screens in the middle flickered into life. It was a lot of information that if he was honest, he wasn't too comfortable seeing. Was it really wise to have this much monitoring power in any agency even if it saves people? But he knew that the issue had to wait. There are tons to analyze in these screens.

"We had to move a sattelite to get these images now," Joan Campbell said as she entered the room. " I called in a favor or we'll be waiting 16 hours."

"Riiiiight..." was all he could say as he squinted at the image at the right screen.

"Is everything not to your satisfaction?" the director asked.

"No... this is fine," he said non comittally. "Barber, can you..." he pointed at the thermal imaging on the bottom right.

"Sure," the analyst pressed several keys and the image dominated the screen.

"What am I looking at here?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence before the answer came. "Thermal imaging of the building's rooftops..." Barber looked at the screen and stared. "Oh. That's not good."

Rossi frowned, pulling out his phone. " Morgan, you're going to have a problem."


	20. Chapter 20

Annie Walker swallowed the pain medication the doctor retrieved from her bag. She knew the situation wasn't ideal for the two that she was with. Morgan would probably rather have backup from the FBI. Beside him, Dr. McKenzie would probably have wanted not to be anywhere near this whole ordeal at all. And they both would've wanted her to stay out of this particular op, injured and all.

Maybe they could've argued her out of helping before but they didn't have a choice anymore- not when there was a team of three guarding Mr. Ivanov and a few more on top of Reva's building.

Svetski's team were making sure that the job gets done.

Period.

So the two very reluctantly changed the game plan to include her. Annie would be the one to babysit Reva inside her apartment. Summer would deal with the one's on Reva's rooftop and when that's done, be back up for the BAU agent. Morgan would be directly dealing with Mr. Ivanov's guards and the sniper himself.

It wasn't a great plan. They all knew it. But Summer couldn't possibly ask anymore from the mafia heads and any more agents would absolutely tip the enemy off. So the silence that fell inside the bread truck was absolutely understandable.

"Ten minutes," Morgan announced.

The doctor took a deep breath. "Right." Her hands went to the small of her back, patted the back of her boots and adjusted her jacket. Annie realized It was an ordinance check. Then she nodded. "Ready."

"We'll do fine." Annie tried to give the girl a comforting smile but was met with an eyeroll.

"That's the problem with spooks, Walker. You guys are so focused on mission success that you don't fully see the severity of what you ask people to do," Summer replied tiredly.

She was about to ask what the meant when the door to the truck opened. The air was suddenly not filled with scent of baked goods anymore. The two jumped off the truck and onto the building parkade. "Be careful, kid. Do what you have to do." Morgan smirked. "Pretty boy's going to rip my head off if you don't come back in one piece, you know that right?"

There was another eyeroll from the doctor but this time a wry smile accompanied it. "Me? You're the one who should be careful. I'm not the one who has to talk down a sniper," she said.

Annie watched the two exchange a brief hug as she climbed off the truck.

"Don't try to be a hero, Walker," Morgan warned her as he climbed back in the truck- he needed to be delivered across the street after all.

"Let's go," Summer said walking towards the elevator. "Cap, we're at Kline's. Basement two. I would appreciate a ride," she said while she adjusted her earpiece.

Annie watched the numbers of the elevator go down. Her pulse quickened- a feeling she was so very used to. She could feel the adrenaline start to affect her system even though she knew that she'll be out for most of the action.

"Hey," Summer placed her hand on her shoulder and turned Annie to face her much to the operative's surprise. Then the doctor zipped her jacket all the way up. "This isn't rated to stop sniper rounds. Don't go near the windows," she reminded. "In fact, here," the doctor knelt down and took a gun from her right ankle, "Have this. There's five in there and one in the chamber. Just in case."

Annie gingerly took the gun. "I'm not rated," she admitted honestly.

The elevator doors slid open.

The doctor stepped in. "I don't think that matters now."

-o -0-o -

Agent Hotchner willed himself to stay as calm as possible as he listened to Garcia tell him of the new developments with Morgan's team. Even as they quietly set up their assault on what looked like a typical suburban home, somehow he still feels like they weren't getting ahead of the situation. It was incredibly frustrating to know that even their best options weren't good enough.

Even more frustrating was the fact that he can't let it show.

"And that is the insane new plan that we all need to get on board with," the technical analyst huffed. "Can i just say sir, if any other complication rears its ugly head, I think I will throw my pens in the air and will them to fly in the air and stab every last one of these… these ridiculous secret police people."

Sometimes, he wished he could once be the person who didn't need to be the voice of reason. "We'll be fine, Garcia. Just concentrate on jamming the signal with Anderson in the two locations. At no point should our marks be able to contact each other."

There was a sigh on the other line. "T- minus 5 minutes. Take your marks. Garcia out!"

Hotch put his phone back into his pocket and pressed his lips together. "We have five minutes," he quietly announced to his group.

"According to Barber, there are six heat signatures in the house. One has to be Mrs. Ivanov," Jai reported.

"And one Mr. Svetski," Seaver added. "That's gives us an army of four probably heavily armed men."

"We do our jobs and watch each other's backs. The only thing we have on our side is the element of surprise. We have to use this to our utmost advantage," he reminded the group, taking a side glance on the most unassuming chiffon yellow house beyond the wall of hedges that afforded it some privacy.

Then he made the mistake and met the genius' gaze.

Spencer Reid lips twitched. "Hotch, is anything wrong?"

"There have been some complications. It's being dealt with," he answered as evenly as possible.

"Complications?" the genius prodded on, his voice raising half an octave higher with concern.

"It's being dealt with," he repeated sternly. "Reid, I need you here. Present."

"Of course." The genius nodded.

"We have one chance to get this right. Get to your positions and wait for my mark." He watched as Seaver followed the CIA operative down the block. He took a deep breath waiting for a buzz in his phone from Garcia. He adjusted his earpiece trying to be as calm as possible. And for the hundredth time that day, he told himself that everything was going to be fine. Because really. What else could go wrong?

00 - 000 - 000

Headphones on.

Auggie couldn't listen to Barber and Rossi anymore. It was distracting. It made him painfully aware that he couldn't contribute to the safety of the team by looking at the satellite imagery. It made him more aware of what the stakes were. It's an all or nothing mission in US soil. No. There's nothing he can do there.

What he can do however is help the BAU's technical analyst jam signals. He let his fingers hover above his keyboard "reading" the old code that Garcia had written for another op and grinned. "You're good," he said to her on their open line.

"Oh muffin, you haven't seen wizardry like mine since Harry Potter," she replied.

"You know, I can piggy back your code and do…" Auggie started typing. "This."

"Did you just ping that off to… Expanded radius of silence." Garcia breathed. "Oh dear Lord, stop flirting with me."

Auggie almost laughed out loud. Almost.


	21. Chapter 21

Annie Walker saw the doctor press her back against the wall before she turned the corner. She was signaled to do the same. Of course, she readily complied albeit slighty confused. "What's going on?"

"There are two thugs. Stationed at the mark's door," Summer replied, humourlessly smiling in disbelief. "Of course there is. Why wouldn't there be? It's not like the intel said they'd be on the roof. It's not like we need a break or anything."

The operative frowned at the girl's sarcasm and checked the gun she was handed just minutes before. "We can't go to Reva's then. The minute they see me, they'll probably radio it in. They've only blocked cell reception."

"Yeah, a gun shot will also trigger the same effect." The doctor paused. "However, they don't know what I look like. I could be just another tenant walking by to my own flat. " She very carefully took a peep.

"And then what? Do you have syringes or something? Tranqs?" Annie asked.

"Why would I have…?" Summer sighed. "Look, we don't have time for this. I don't know what comes next. All i know is that you're going to stay hidden."

"Until when?"

"I don't know. But keep an eye out in case somebody else comes along," she said, taking her phone from her pocket and pressing it on her ear just as she turned the corner.

Annie wanted to chase after her but it was too late. Whatever improvisation Summer had planned was already in play as the doctor giggled at her imaginary friend on the other line. So she very carefully spied on the other girl instead.

Summer walked down the corridor slowly, twirling a finger on a few strands of her blonde wig. "No, you put down your phone first," she giggled. Annie raised an eyebrow. That's what she's going with? "No you!" she continued as the two thugs watched her saunter. She watched Summer give them a small flirty wave. The two just eyed her as she walked past the first guard letting out squeal of delight.

Summer paused. "Fine. We'll put it down together," she sighed. "One… two…"

Instead of the words three, Annie watched as the girl spring into action as she threw herself at one thug, with one hand on his head, forcefully slamming it to the wall behind. Then she threw in a knee to the groin and gut for good measure before the other man had his arms around her. But somehow, she just used it as an opportunity to push off from the first man she assaulted and get her assailant stumbling backwards to a wall. Annie was amazed when she saw the doctor throw a man twice her size over her shoulder, just as thug#1 was trying to get his bearings straight enough to grapple her. Instead, the girl twisted thug#2's shoulder while lashing a leg out. Her heel connected with the man's jaw with an audible crack.

Annie couldn't help but wince as the first man stayed down looking dazed before passing out.

But the second man proved to be more resilient, managing to take a shot at the girl's leg, unsteadying her and making her release her grip on his arm. He blocked several kicks to his body. Annie saw the man reach for his gun as he rolled to a stand. She was about to call out a warning but saw that the gun was just in the processes of being raised when Summer went for it. The top came off when she rushed forward, catching the thug offguard with her counterintuitive maneauver. Then somehow, once again, the doctor managed to throw the man over her shoulder. The man let go of the gun upon impact. And Annie watched in shock and awe as Summer let her knee drop on the man's neck making him gasp for air until he stayed still.

"Holy…" Annie breathed when Summer stood unharmed taking several deep breaths before taking zip ties from her back pocket. Auggie and Joan had each briefly told her what Summer could do. A few hours ago, she remembered feeling that they might've oversold. After what she just witnessed, she now believed their description wholeheartedly.

"Sorry." She heard the doctor mumble as she turned each of them over to tie their hands and feet. Then she proceeded to disarm them, collecting four guns in total.

"You alright?" Summer asked, finally meeting her eye.

"Are you?" Annie replied with genuine concern.

The doctor shrugged and took another deep breath. "Let's just do this," she said, knocking on Reva's door.

The door slowly opened. "Annie? I heard noises… Oh my God." The CIA analyst gasped as she saw the damage outside her door.

"Reva," Annie said, stepping forward, "We need to go inside."

"Here," Summer handed the guns to the surprised analyst. "Could you maybe help me drag these bodies in? Walker's still injured."

Reva's eyes widened. "What?"

Annie held the door open, understanding what was being asked. "The last we heard before radio silence is that these men were on the roof. Things have obviously changed. If one of their friends passes by here and sees that these guys are out cold in the hall… it's game over for us." she explained.

"Right," Reva curtly replied. "All this because of that one time?" she sighed as she awkwardly help drag one body from the hall.

You have no idea, Annie Walker thought as the second body entered the apartment.

00 000 00 -^^

Spencer Reid heard Hotch's phone buzz. He gripped his gun a bit tighter as the buzzing went on. Eventually, the buzzing will stop telling them that the mobile networks have been effectively shut down in the area. That was their signal to move in.

The profile was clear. Svetski was a creature of habit. His tactics of using a cellphone to detonate a bomb and killing entire families have worked for him so far. He didn't need to deviate.

But Reid couldn't help but be worried. So many things have already changed since they left the CIA building. And profiles, he knew, could only help so much. What if this Svetski did decide to do something new?

Not to mention that If there were a bomb in the house, and there is surely at least one, he was sure Hotch would've loved to have Morgan around- his ATF experience and all. Hotch would've loved to have Rossi and Emily as well, more experienced field agents, than him and the newly minted Agent Seaver. He knew he wasn't the best all around agent. He knew he was more brain than brawn. This was the area he did not excel.

The buzzing stopped. Reid met his boss' steady gaze as Hotch raised his wrist. "We're a go," he commanded on his comm.

He quietly trailed behind Hotch. He plastered his back to the side of the door while the older man blasted the door's lock. Reid can hear gunfire already from the second floor- no doubt Seaver was already in.

The door swung open. The genius caught himself in time. He was about to call out and announce that the FBI were here as per bureau policy. But he remembered that policy didn't apply today. Instead, he raised his gun at the man scampering up the staircase no doubt enroute to help his comrade upstairs. He pulled the trigger while Hotch entered the house behind him and turned right, stopping at the entrance of what looked like the kitchen. The man on the stairs fell. Reid could feel his adrenaline pumping as he kicked the man's weapon out of the way. The enemy was down and stayed down.

But Hotch was already taking fire himself. "Reid, cover me," the older agent ordered. With a nod, Hotch entered the kitchen crouching as low as possible to the center island while Reid fired in the direction he thought the other person was. He missed. But before the man could shoot, Hotch had already done his damage. The man fell backwards.

It was then, Seaver emerged from the other end of the kitchen. "Upstairs is clear and the rest of this floor is clear," She reported.

"Basement," Hotch cocked his head to the direction of the staircase once more and took the lead down.

They went down, with Hotch leading the way and Reid taking the rear. But when they got there, there was noone else except a battered middle aged woman passed out and tied to a chair. Spencer lowered his weapon and moved to untie the woman but Hotch stopped him.

"Reid," he called out sternly, "There are wires on her chair."

Seaver was already on her knee behind the woman's chair. "It goes down the floorboards."

"He put in a failsafe," Reid realized with a sigh. "Hotch, we also profiled that he'd be here."

"Or that he'll be watching," Hotch said. "Let's hope Wilcox is as good as his file says."


	22. Chapter 22

Joan Campbell watched the screens at ops intently. She watched as the building camera caught McKenzie's take down. She saw the house where Mrs. Ivanov cleared of the enemy. She watched as the camera on Jai showed him perched somewhere watching the streets like a hawk. She saw Morgan getting into position just waiting for his cue to go. And she watched the overlay of satellite feeds and city cameras streaming information to the room in real time.

She crossed her arms against her chest, unable to tear her eyes away from the screens. She was only vaguely aware that David Rossi came to stand beside her.

"I've already called the ATF to be on stand by. They can be in the Ivanov's location in five minutes once Svetski has been found, of course," he informed her calmly. "I have a medical team on standby for both teams as well. Just in case."

"You sound confident Agent Rossi," Joan replied. "Simultaneous operations are tricky things."

"Optimistic," Rossi corrected. "I believe we have to be."

Joan Campbell watched as McKenzie ran out of Reva's apartment and went straight for the building's emergency exit to rush up to the roof. On the other screen, she saw Agent Hotchner stop the genius profiler from stepping forward any further. If Seaver's camera were anything to go by, there was a bomb underneath Mrs. Ivanov.

"It's not like we can do anything- given that we've jammed all long distance communication," Rossi continued. "All we can do is be optimistic and prepare for all potential fall out."

"I applaud your zen like attitude. But besides from Jai and Annie, those are your people out there in danger, Rossi," Joan reminded him.

"Yes. And they are the best," Rossi replied simply.

Joan gave the man a sideways glance and saw the smug smile on his face. She took a deep breath before returning her attention on the screens. "They're the best," she found herself repeating, wishing it were indeed true.

00 - 00 ***

Summer paused when she got to the last level of the emergency staircase. "Huh." She cautiously eyed the door to the roof doubtfully. How is there noone? she thought as she very carefully moved up the last flight. She got down on one knee, with a knife on one hand and the other slowly turning the knob.

GIngerly, she quietly pushed the door open. She felt the fresh air on her face as she crawled out, leaving a blade in between the door and the frame to keep it from closing fully and making a noise. She stayed low on the ground, keeping as much to as possible to the shadows as she made her way around the roof. She saw one guy splayed out on the deck behind a rifle. He was no doubt, the sniper placed to be the the other building's backup.

The problem was that there was noone else besides from the sniper. Summer bit her lip assessing the highly irregular situation at hand. Soldiers normally came in pairs- especially special missions. One was always the look out and assisted in the op, while the other did the task at hand. The two highest buildings in this block were this and the one across the street where Mr. Ivanov was perched. Noone would position look out soldiers in buildings lower than the mark. And it was very unlikely for Svetski to have a third sniper in another block- there weren't a lot of people in the world that could make a shot like that plus they've jammed the longer distance communication frequencies.

Summer concluded that it was indeed, just her and the sniper up here- yet it didn't sit well with her at all. "So weird," she mumbled to herself as she crept low and quiet towards the sniper. She took a gun from the small of her back. A well aim-ed blow at the base of his skull should do it, she thought as she grew closer.

But there was a flash from the other building- like a mirror reflecting light. Damn! She was Just an arm's length away when the sniper looked back. She lunged forward, letting her arm swing so the butt of the gun would hit the man's temple before he could get to feet. She felt and heard the contact between metal and be one."Morgan! I'm compromised," she quickly said to the comm on her wrist. In that brief moment, the man managed to steady himself enough to tackle her. She felt his unsteady weight on top of her as she punched the same gun hand- another cracking sound, this time the back of her gun found the man's nose. The guy leaned back in pain, a hand going to his face. The doctor managed to crawl free and get to her feet before the man could reach for his pistol at the small of his back. She delivered a low spinning kick as she stood- another hit to the man's temple.

Summer breathed a sigh of relief when the man stayed down, his eyes rolling back as he lost consciousness. She stayed low, using the ledge as protection bec she heard gunfire. Her gun was now safely tucked against her back while she crawled to zip tie the sniper's hands and feet. Her head was barely above ledge when she heard and felt a bullet cut through the air. She ducked, wide eyed. "Don't get complacent, Sum," she reminded herself, crawling towards the sniper's weapon, "Gotta center."

She took to the rifle with a frown. She had to admit, the sniper picked his position well. She didn't realize it until she was in his place that there was no conceivable way the guy could've gotten shot with his setup- unless of course, the shooter on the other side could shoot like Robin Hood. He knew what he was doing, which meant that all these men knew what they were doing. The profile was undeniably correct.

And that fact bothered her.

Because, again- why was the sniper up in the roof alone?

Summer took a deep breath and settled her eye on the scope. She could worry about that later- Morgan had to come first. "Hold on, buddy. I'm getting in position," she said to the comm. "Game on."

00++}}:::

"Morgan, I'm compromised."

It was those rushed words that made him ready himself. He knew it was too much to ask for her to be unseen this whole time, but they had to try. He could hear the flutter of Russian breaking the silence right outside the door. Footsteps were getting nearer. No doubt there was an order to go across the street and contain the trouble brewing there. Then, there was the unmistakable sound of a rifle being fired.

"Kid, you alright?" he called out to comm as he hid himself behind the door wedge in time. The door swung open revealing two unsubs.

Derek Morgan knew he had to disable them quick and if possible quietly. He let the first man pass, but the second- he kicked the second man as hard as he could so he wouldn't catch his footing. The guy tumbled down the flight of stairs, taking his accomplice with him.

However, several jabs of concrete wasn't enough for one of the men. Morgan took the steps by two, jumping high on the last one and bringing his fist down on the guy who just managed to stand back up. His momentum plus gravity plus his own force was, he hoped, enough.

Amazingly, It wasn't. The henchman merely stumbled a bit to the side.

"Don't get complacent, Sum," he heard a faint voice cut through his earpiece along with a gravelly sound. "Gotta center."

Morgan smirked, as he sent his knee towards the man's gut. "We're not so easy to kill, buddy," he warned. The guy threw a punch but he caught it just in time and turned the guy's weight against him. He threw him over his shoulder and down another flight of stairs. Thankfully, the bad guy stayed down. Considering the awkward position of his neck, Morgan wondered if he was even alive.

He heard more claps of rifle fire.

Morgan rushed up the stairs and out the door. There was no staying hidden now. He had his pistol on hand and let the training take over. There were three more on the roof. He ducked behind an exhaust vent in time before the first one fired at him.

"Hold on, buddy. I'm getting into position."

Faster, please, Morgan thought as he returned fire.

"Game on."

Morgan mentally cheered, pressing his back against the hot metal of the vent while more bullets went his way.

"You're two o' clock."

He heard a yell of frustration and took a look out. The nearest henchmen fell to his knee. The kid apparently blew his knee. In surprise, the man had let his gun go flying in the air. But Morgan already saw him reaching for another gun at the small of his back. McKenzie might have the choice to take the non-lethal route- which he fully expected she would- he, however, did not have that luxury.

He shot and didn't miss.

"Incoming nine' o clock. 3...2..."

He turned on his knee, in time to shoot the man in the chest thrice. At the same time, he heard another shout of pain from his last possible assailant. He spun, gun at the ready. Morgan saw where the bullet hit - shoulder joint. The man dropped his gun in a yelp of pain. Then another shot was fired- the other shoulder joint.

Morgan winced. He knew that rifle rounds could shatter bone and seeing as there were no exit wounds, there bullet was probably lodged in there somewhere. He shouldn't be able to use his arms without extreme pain. "Stay down!" he instructed the henchman while he was trying to stand. "I said stay down!"

His enemy, however, had other ideas. Sure, he fell to the ground but he also lifted an unsteady hand- a gun aimed for Mr. Ivanov. Morgan had no choice.

"Really?" came a disappointed voice on his earpiece. "Do you have daddy yet?"

"Not yet, kid," Morgan replied quickly. Mr. Ivanov was eying him wide eye in terror. He didn't know where the handgun came from. Derek assumed that the man picked it up. His rifle was now wholly unattended.

"Mr. Ivanov, my name is Derek Morgan. I'm with the FBI," he said calmly. "I'm going to put my gun away so we can talk. Okay?" Very slowly, he placed his handgun back to its holster.

"He has my family. I cannot fail," the older stated firmly.

"That's not true. Your children are safe. They're with agents as we speak inside a secured federal building," He replied. "Now, if you could please put your gun down…"

"My wife-"

"We're working on that as well. We have another team in that location," Morgan answered. "Now can you please put the gun down?"

"I want to talk to my children. I want to know you are telling the truth." The old man placed his finger on the trigger.

"Morgan…?" came an unsure Summer.

"You want to know the truth?" Morgan replied a bit more assertively, his hands still raised. "The truth is there's a doctor across the street who should be working her magic in a hospital instead of holding a sniper rifle and helping a joint task force go after some higher up in the Secret Police. There's an injured operative trying to protect her friend- the same lady you placed in the hospital is trying to protect her friend. From you. And I'm the only one in my team who is here, because the rest of my team is trying to save your wife and protect your children," he said firmly. " The truth is I can't contact them. Because to pull off multiple operations, we needed the element of surprise. That meant shutting down their means of communication. Which unfortunately, also means shutting down our means of communication. The only person I can talk to is that girl across the street- and I'm sure you've noticed, she's not a bad shot." He took one tentative step forward. "The truth is the only way you're going to see your family is if you put the gun down and come with me. So now I'm asking you to trust me, and put the gun down."

Morgan counted the seconds of indecision that floated on Mr. Ivanov's face. Thankfully, the old man lowered his weapon. Morgan sighed in relief. "Summer, rendezvous at the apartment. I'm good here," he told the girl.

"Copy. Rendezvous."


	23. Chapter 23

Jai Wilcox laid on his belly armed with a pair of binoculars. He blinked hard. He knew he was straining his eyes trying to lookout for trouble in a form of an old Eastern European looking man possibly holding a mobile phone. "Angry old man," he murmured, "Where oh where can you be?"

He heard the team breach the house beneath him. Jai held his breath in hopes that they didn't trip any booby traps or anything. Gunfire made him flinch. But eventually, he heard it all stop. He took radio silence as a good sign that everyone was still intact.

And in all that time, he kept an weathered eye on the surrounding suburban scenery.

"Where are you Waldo?"

Jai assumed that the big boss man saw what happened here. That's the profile- that he'd be watching, that it'll be him to pull the switch, that he was going to be around to watch everything burn. And yet… there was noone. The street was quiet.

"Mr. Wilcox, be advised. Mrs. Ivanov is sitting on a bomb. Attempting to move her will trigger it," came the very calm, even voice of Agent Hotchner in his ear.

Jai let out the air he didn't know he was holding in. "Duly noted," he replied. This meant that they can't do anything until he makes sure that Svetski is very much not in the vicinity. However, the back of his mind kept going over the profile. There was no way the mastermind wouldn't be here to make sure everything would go swimmingly.

So the operative took a deep breath deciding to try a little role playing. "If I were a bad guy, where would I hide?" he asked himself. "I have to be a distance away so I won't get affected by the bomb," he theorized, moving his line of sight further away. "I have to have a clear view of the house for my viewing pleasure…" He shifted again. "I have to … have a mobile phone… that isn't working. So I'd be walking around… looking for signal," he continued. "And then I'd get frustrated because… no signal. So…"

And just like that, he spotted him. There he was- the guy in the pictures- jabbing his iphone screen over and over again in the small alley behind the house across the street. Jai took the rifle strapped to his back. "I found the target," he informed the team, "If I have a shot, I'm going to take it."

"Good luck," Agent Hotchner said.

Jai looked down his scope and centered the man on the crosshairs. He couldn't help but let out a small smirk and a small prayer that the bullet would reach his mark. Svetski had stopped jabbing his phone. The guy actually looked over to the house with an expression mixed with surprise and frustration. He knew he's been had. Jai knew he didn't have the luxury of time.

The operative took a deep breath then pulled the trigger.

"Dasvidaniya from everyone in the Agency."

000 - 00000 ****

"The satellites are going to be out of position less than a minute. We can't block the signal anymore," Penelope Garcia warned. "I can't… you know… but you can right?" She nervously tapped the cat end of one of her pens on her workstation, staring at the screen infront of her.

"Weeeeeellll….. Not anymore," answered Anderson, sounding as flippant as ever. "D.o. D. just told me they need it for another thing." That tone of Anderson, she learned, was his version of her flirty. She can hear his keystrokes over the comm betraying the stress he was actually under. "Yep. Play time is over."

"What other thing could the D.o.d. have that's more important than-" she paused when she heard cheers from the comm. "What's that? That sounds like happy people. Why are they happy?" she demanded.

"Hold on- Barber!"

All Garcia could hear was a bunch of murmurs, which she has to admit, was better than being placed on hold. She heard the wheels of a chair come nearer then a bit of white noise. "Cameras show that Agent Morgan has secured the father. Aaaand….Barber, stop shaking my chair! Use your words!"

"Jai just called. He got the guy! Auggie, he got the guy!" she heard another man faintly cheer.

"I'm guessing you heard that," the blind man said. "I'm reading reports now. Wilcox didn't miss. The bomb squad has taken over the area. The area is being evacuated. No casualties on our side."

Penelope Garcia felt herself exhale. She didn't even know she was holding her breath until that moment. "That's good right? We're all good. No casualties."

"Booyah! We won!" continued the cheers of the other person Garcia can now peg as Barber.

"Yes and no," answered Anderson quickly. "Barber, get back to your desk. We still have people unaccounted for."

The technical analyst took a deep breath and smiled. She realized that the CIA handler and her were the same. To most people, this would be mission accomplished. But to people like them, the mission isn't over until all their chicks were back in the nest.

oooo00000oooooo00000

Reva Kline felt like a child, squatting down using her bed as a barrier from the window and her side table shielding her from the door to her studio apartment. Beside her, Annie Walker has been keeping watch of both the window and the door with bated breath. Every now and then, the operative would wince and hold her side. Reva couldn't understand why this was happening now. The op they did was so long ago.

DId they really need to hold a grudge?

"How many bad guys are still out there?" she asked, eying the unconscious men in her apartment warily.

"We're not really sure," Walker answered, with another wince.

"Well, this is obviously well thought out," she nervously commented just as someone started banging on her door. The chair propped against the door wasn't going to hold for very long. She could already see that the door knob is already broken.

Annie Walker took a deep breath and raised the gun the other girl had given her. It was comforting to know that just in case the door did give way, they at least had a chance. Only, Annie's hand did not look anywhere near steady.

The chair leg broke. Reva saw Annie pull the trigger and put her hands on her ears. She knew this wasn't what they trained her to do in the Academy. But she was in tech for a reason. She wasn't an operative. Facing down danger isn't where she excelled.

Two shots were fired. Then there was a lull. A very confused operative staring at her firearm wasn't the most comforting sight. The gun had jammed. Then her eyes focused on a very large angry man reaching for something behind him.

Of course, the guy had his own gun.

"Annie!" Reva called out in warning.

The blonde saw what she was pertaining to. To her credit, the operative took the nearest solid object, her desk lamp, and threw it to the guy. It was enough for the guy to stop and drop his gun especially when the lamp hit a bullet wound on his shoulder.

"We have to run."

Reva didn't need to be asked twice. She made a dash for the door before the intruder could get his bearings straight. With a passing side glance, she saw Annie right behind her albeit limping a bit awkwardly.

"Go without me," the operative said when she dropped down on one knee, wincing in pain.

"The hell I am," Reva replied. She was about to help her friend up but froze when she saw a gun aimed right for her. "Please," she begged.

The man smirked.

Reva closed her eyes in anticipation.

000-000 000


	24. Chapter 24

Reva closed her eyes in anticipation.

Boom Boom Boom.

"Ms. Kline," she heard a man calmly call out before she opened her eyes. "It's over," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Against her better judgement, she found herself turning to see what had happened- there, sprawled in her living room, was a man with three bullets on his chest.

00-oooo- oooo

Annie was glad to be back in the bullpen. The doctors have finally cleared her for active duty and every single CIA test had told her higher ups that she was as sane as can be. She uncomfortably stood through a make shift medal of honor awarding- not that she got to keep the medal. And when everything died down, she found herself fidgeting behind her desk, suspiciously eyeing the small mountain of paperwork that had piled on her desk.

"You'd think they'd go easy on the paperwork because… oh, I dont' know… You were poisoned and shot and almost died... twice," Auggie Anderson said as he stopped by her desk.

"You think a medal would mean something," Annie shot back gamely.

"I think it does when you get to keep it," he replied. "Joan's letting me out of my desk today. Would you like to join me?"

Annie stood up automatically. The paperwork can wait. If Joan is allowing Auggie to the field, the op must be interesting. "Where are we going? What are we doing?"

"Surveillance." The analyst grinned.

"...Joan wants you to stake someone out?"

"That's why we're going to need some supplies."

"...Supplies?" The operative paused but went along with her friend. Because, really, anything would be more interesting than filling out forms.

-0000 - 0000 - 000 -

Spencer Reid rolled over on his bed, blearily found his glasses and checked his phone. He scanned several emails and text messages and frowned. Most of them were work related. Some of them were from his worried team members. None of them were from Summer- the reason why everyone was so worried about him in the first place.

And he had the right to be worried. She hasn't been answering any of his calls or his messages for weeks- three weeks to be exact. For 21 days, he's tried, when they weren't out on cases, to catch her either at the hospital or her place. She was always busy in the hospital or he had just missed her. He was convinced she knew a way to get out of the building without anyone noticing. He wouldn't put it past her to know several ways considering the events with the CIA. And he couldn't personally cover all exits at all times. Her apartment looks like it hasn't been touched at all- her windows still had bullet marks on them, her clothes were still in her closet… But then, he also knew that her family used to live like nomads. She could live with just a go bag with no problem.

Summer, however, has never not answered his messages before.

He decided then and there to give it another week until he asks Garcia to do her magic. He knew Summer could possibly be off the grid. However, he also knew that if there was any chance of tracking her down, Penelope is the one who could make it happen.

So he shuffled around his room to get ready for the day. Just when he was about to head out the door with his coffee tumbler on hand, he heard a muffled greeting. "Hey Slim, if you're going to work, could you give this to Morgan?" A hand shot up from his sofa holding up a piece of paper.

Spencer almost dropped his coffee. He gaped at the waving hand. "Slim?" The paper made a crinkly sound as she waved her hand. "...Spencer?" Then a head propped against the sofa's back board with hand reaching out to him. "Dude, come on. Pleeaaaaaassssse."

"Summer, I've been so worried." He breathed a sigh of relief, placing his bag and coffee down before heading towards the sofa to give the girl a hug. "Why weren't answering any of my calls or my messages?" he asked when he let her go.

She ran a hand through her hair. "Sorry, I needed a break from spooks and stuff," she apologized.

"Just spooks and stuff?" he prodded. "Because your apartment hasn't been touched. And you've always replied to my messages-"

"Fine," she said. "I wanted to disappear. I was set to disappear. I even have a letter for you that has a number where you could reach me if there's an emergency," she admitted.

"And are you still going to disappear?" he asked.

"No," she huffed. "I've worked so damn hard to put everything behind me, Slim. I mean, just staying in one place takes so much effort already. And the jobs I did to put myself through school and med school and taxes and just living within the system- it's ridiculous. And It's way easier to live off the grid. The agency doesn't get to erase all that because they can't clean up their own mess. Med school- So. Expensive," she said tiredly before lying down on the sofa. "Although I'm fairly sure this is the worst decision ever."

"Don't be silly, Sum. It's not the worst decision ever," Spencer said, relaxing in his seat.

She let out a sigh. "Fairly sure it is."

"Fairly sure it isn't," Spencer challenged.

"Slim, I'm really sorry about not replying to your messages. It wasn't about you per se," she said sitting back up.

"It's who I work for. I understand," the genius nodded. "You know, Sum, you can stay here if you want until you fix your apartment," he offered- hopeful that it would make it easier to keep an eye on her.

"Thanks but the windows should be done by today," she answered much to his dismay, "Hey, aren't you going to be late?"

"There actually aren't any pressing cases. I can always call in sick and I have a fair amount of vacation days that I can-"

"Stop. Use your leaves for actual leaves. Go to work," she leaned in to give him a hug. "Just call me when you're done and we'll grab dinner. I don't have a shift until tomorrow."

"Are you sure? Because-"

"Go. And give this to Morgan please," she handed him a piece of paper. "Tell him not to screw up. I have to work with this girl."

" Understood." Spencer Reid nodded again. "See you at dinner?" he asked as he made his way to his door for the second time that morning. he saw a hand go up with a thumbs up sign. He smiled, for possibly the first time in three weeks, before he headed out the door.

00- 000- 000- 000

Annie Walker entered the halls of the Smithsonian. Apparently, she needed a new ID and new protocols dictate that she gets it herself. This was simply something she had to do to keep up her cover. And quite frankly, she was grateful to get at least one thing accomplished that day.

The stake out had been a bust. It wasn't until they reached a very doubtful looking roadside bar that Auggie told her that they were tracking down Summer McKenzie. Joan needed to pass several messages to her and the doctor needed to sign some paperwork. The DPD head knew that Auggie was probably the only person who could achieve such a feat. And somehow, Auggie managed to track her to that particular bar by tracking down an old vintage Chevy Chevelle SS.

"Sometimes, she uses her old man's car," he explained nonchalantly.

True enough, there was the Chevelle parked beside an Impala. A peculiar star marking at the trunk proved that it was hers. So they went in the half empty bar. Asking around the got them nothing but stink eye and several people claiming they owned the car outside. They weren't there long but when they left, not only was the Chevelle gone but her car tires were also suspiciously flat.

It took the whole afternoon to get her car back to the city and usable again. Auggie apologized profusely, saying that he should've known better than to take the direct approach. Not that it was any of his fault. The bar patrons really didn't need to let the air out of all four of her tires and they really could've helped out even just a little bit. At least their supplies- namely food- allowed them not to starve.

Thus, she decided to get her ID. At least, that would be one thing duly accomplished.

When she turned the corner to the administrative office however, she found two familiar men browsing through the nearest temporary exhibition.

"You really don't need to treat us to dinner, Morgan," the genius said.

"Lemme tell you something, Reid. You always treat your wingman- or, in this case, wing woman- right," his companion replied. "Summer got me a chance with this girl. I am treating her, and you, to dinner as a thank you."

"... I guess…"

"She already knows about it. It's too late to change the plans now."

Annie tentatively approached the two. "Agent Morgan? Dr. Reid?"

The two turned. It was Morgan who managed to recover from his surprise faster. "Annie Walker. Good to see you standing," he greeted albeit eying her a bit confused. "You look a bit off. Are you okay?" he asked with genuine concern.

Annie smiled. "Oh, I'm fine. Auggie and I were trying to find a mutual doctor friend of ours to no avail. We need to finish the paperwork."

She saw the genius of the two smile ever so slightly in amusement. "Just for curiosities sake, Where did you end up?" he asked placing both his hands into his pockets. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"A bar called Hunters, way outside the city," she replied with a shrug. "Then we got into car trouble."

Spencer Reid winced sympathetically. "I've been there. Once. " he commented. "Spark plug?"

"Tires," Annie replied with a chuckle. "But if you're both here, I'm guessing she's here?"

"Down at acquisitions. Her friends just came back from Guatemala," Morgan answered. "You know, Walker, we can relay the message that you're looking for her just for paperwork. I have a feeling she thought it might be for something else."

"I don't think Auggie would actually allow it. Neither I think would Joan," she admitted. "It's a shame. She would've been a great asset." She saw the two agents exchange a an uncertain glance. "What? You doubt she'd be a great asset for this country?" she asked.

"Oh, she'll be a great asset albeit a little troublesome. However, You'll be disappointed if you ask her to be one. I'm certain she would turn you down. And no amount of persuasion would make her falter in her decision," Reid stated firmly.

"Maybe I can get her to reconsider," she argued. "The company is very different now from her last encounter."

Agent Morgan shook his head. "You don't give up. I'll give you that. But take what you know about her and the connections she has. The kid could've been a great many things," Morgan said, "But she decided to become a doctor. Do you know why?"

Annie paused. "No. Why?

"Because doctors treat everyone." Dr. Reid simply shrugged. "Doctors don't choose."

Annie Walker conceded with a sigh. She would be damned if she didn't at least try once but at least now she knew that she had to approach the topic gently and temper her expectations. "Well, if you both think so. You guys are the experts after all. Being profiles after all," she replied. "Why don't I take you down to acquisitions. And show you some stuff for the new galleries. It beats waiting here," she offered.

"You can do that?" Reid inquired in a fashion that reminded Annie of an excited child.

Annie whipped out her soon to be replaced ID and proudly grinned. "I do work here you know." There was another silent exchange between the two agents before they agreed to follow her down.


End file.
